


Re-Beginnings

by JRLuz



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Dragons, F/M, Inspired by Game of Thrones, Magic, Medieval, Multiple main characters, Political Drama, long book, slowburn, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26237971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JRLuz/pseuds/JRLuz
Summary: “We need to do something, or we will all die.” Ketrane said, pacing back and forth on the stone floor. “Everyday, the desert grows, destroying everything in its path. This world is dying. We need to get out. We need to bring down the wall.” He jabbed a finger accusingly to the north, where beyond the horizon, the wall rose out of the sea, impenetrable and enchanted.“Do you see a Dragon Ruler around here? Or anyone who would even know how to break the enchantments?” Rylen asked. He answered himself. “No, you don’t because anyone with magic that strong has been dead for over two hundred years!”“Then we need to start looking for anyone who still practices magic. Anyone at all with even a little bit of skill.”“There might be another solution.” Rylen said with hesitancy. “There is said to be an item that has the power to transport people between the two worlds. I know someone who has been looking for it for almost a decade, if anyone has a clue where it is, it will be him.”“Who is it? Where is he?” Ketrane looked so eager, but Rylen cringed, knowing he wouldn’t like the answer.“It’s Jak, and he should still be about three floors below you, right where you left him, in the dungeons.”
Relationships: Original Character & Original Character, Original Female Character & Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character, original character & dragon
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	1. Cahaya

**Author's Note:**

> https://inkarnate.com/m/YyMjKg--re-beginnings  
> Here is a world map for you to enjoy!

#  Cahaya 

The crown rested firmly on her head, secure and protective, but ornamented with jewels and beads of gold that danced in the light. The crown was a heavy reminder of her new duty to her people as she emerged from the Basilica and into the bright sunlight. Overhead, the bells rang out from the towers of the Basilica, and the crowds that had gathered in the square cheered for their new ruler. Cahaya stood on the front step and fought with her nerves as she waved to the crowd trying not to show the nervous tremor in her hand. Her hand that was now painted with runes meant to bring peace and prosperity to her and her new kingdom.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the councilors and her fellow candidates file onto the grand balcony. With a slight falter, she realized they were no longer her _fellow_ candidates, but rather her previous competitors. The votes had been cast and her peers and mentors had chosen to put the crown on her head. She was Queen now. Dragon Queen of the Eastern and Western Continents and Councilor of Nantrador. It wasn’t that long ago she was simply Cahaya the daughter of common copper workers in the insignificant city of Mazar in Katalan.

It was eight years ago that her parents had painted those same runes on her arms the day a Councilor had chosen her as his candidate. The day she left her homeland of Katalan for the island of Nantrador where the Dragon Ruler lived and ruled the Continents from. She hadn’t seen her parents since that day when she stood on the boat deck next to the unfamiliar man and waved, her eyes jumping between the shrinking figures of her parents and the marks painted delicately on to her hands and arms. Beside her parents stood Nawel, her betrothed, his eyes shiny with tears, the feeling of uncertainty that flowed between them more tangible than the wooden planks of the ship beneath her feet.

She didn’t know if he had waited for her. She didn’t know if he would want to move his life from Katalan to Nantrador to be her consort. It was allowed for Dragon Rulers to marry, but many never did. While the support of a partner was useful, many Rulers couldn’t justify having a partner they couldn’t always find time for. When the days of the Ruler are consumed with ensuring justice and equality for all people, it was hard to reason having such an imbalanced relationship in their most intimate circles.

In a few short months, Cahaya and Deste, the previous Dragon King would start their tour of the eight provinces, visiting her homeland first. She would see her family for the first time since her training began and she would get the chance to see Nawel. Perhaps he would be waiting for her, ready to follow her at a moment’s notice, or maybe he would greet her and introduce a wife and children he had obtained since they last saw each other. She didn’t know what would be awaiting her when she finally returned home, but first, she needed to complete the crowning ceremony.

“Are you ready?” Deste asked. As the previous Dragon Ruler, he would still technically reign for one more year as she learned her new role and as they visited all eight provinces to meet her new subjects and learn about the different groups of people she would become responsible for.

“Yes.” She said, and the butterflies that were already inhabiting her stomach took on a new pattern of frenzied flight.

“Close your eyes and repeat after me.” Together they closed their eyes. “ _Venei draseto_.”

“ _Venei draseto._ ” Cahaya whispered. A moment later, she felt a gust of wind on her face and her eyes sprung open.

At the base of the stairs, a dragon landed on the stone with a surprising softness, Cahaya wouldn’t have thought possible given its size. Its eyes were a deep crimson and its scales were a deep blue that faded into a pearly white on its belly. Its wings also followed the same gradient of deep blue to pearl and became translucent at the very finest edge. A crown of black horns surrounded its head in a reflection of the crown that graced her own. For a moment, they simply starred at each other, Cahaya unmoving, and the dragon slowly shifting its great head back and forth, snakelike in its appraisal of her.

Cahaya slowly took a step forward and at the same time, the dragon moved towards her as well. They met in the middle of the steps and she approached its shoulder. Taking a deep breath, she reached out and placed her palm against the dragon. The scales were hard, but their smoothness gave them a silky quality. The longer she touched the dragon, the more she could feel a bond starting to form between them.

An image formed in her mind. It was of her climbing onto the dragon’s back. Not _the dragon_ , Indago. That was its name. Cahaya had no doubt Indago would allow her to climb onto its back, so she reached up and pulled herself up just like she had pictured.

When she had settled, Deste addressed the crowd. “Today, Cahaya has been elected by the councilors, candidates, and me as your new queen. A dragon has answered her call and allowed itself to be bonded to her because it knows she has goodness and honor in her spirit. She has pledged to serve all the nations of our world with justice, mercy and equality to the benefit of others before herself. I trust her to carry on the legacy of the Dragon Rulers before her and to pass on the responsibility at the end of her term. May her rule bring prosperity to us all!” He declared before the crowds who cheered loudly.

It was her turn to speak now. She took a deep breath and a warmth that filled her mind with strength and courage flowed up from her hands that were still pressed against Indago’s back. “As your new queen,” Cahaya noticed a tone of authority in her voice that had never been there before. “I promise to uphold the laws of our nations and treat all the provinces as equals. I will extol justice and mercy to all who come before me and I will serve all the people in my care until the last day of my reign. From the back of this dragon, Indago, I will tend to all the nations so that my rule will bring prosperity to us all!” The crowds cheered even louder this time, excited to hear from their new queen and to learn the name of the dragon that would be by her side for the duration of her reign.

When she finished speaking, an emerald green dragon, whom Cahaya recognized as Sicora, the dragon Deste had been riding since his coronation twenty-four years ago, swooped out of the sky and landed beside Deste. He swung up on the green dragon’s back and turned to speak to Cahaya. “Ready to fly? Place your hands flat against its neck and keep them there. Concentrate on what you want Indago to do. Work together with the dragon to decide where you will go.”

She watched as Deste placed his hands onto Sicora’s neck and the dragon spread its wings and pushed off the steps into the air, beating its enormous wings. Following his lead, she pressed her palms against Indago’s neck and pictured the dragon spreading its wings and flying after Deste and Sicora. Immediately, Indago’s wings unfurled and spread out. With a powerful push of its back legs and a downward stroke of its wings, they were suddenly surging through the air.

Cheers erupted from the crowds that were now below her and the bells in the tower of the Basilica rang out. All this was background noise to Cahaya as she clung to the dragon’s back terrified that she would fall off. This was a moment of insanity. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like for the first Dragon Rider to climb onto the back of a dragon and trust that it wouldn’t end in their inevitable death.

Everyone knew the story, over 1,300 years ago, Alaena, a shepherdess in Amaenivarra, was the first to approach a dragon and persuade it to let her climb aboard its back. The legends said she was able to understand its mind when she touched its scales and that it could also see into her mind when they touched. When the people of her town saw her flying over them, they were amazed. Dragons were hailed as the spirits of the gods, sent to watch over and occasionally guide the people of the world, but before Alaena, they had never gotten directly involved in the affairs of the humans. The townspeople crowned her as their queen and as tales spread of the Dragon Queen, more towns and cities became unified under her rule. Seeing the prosperity and peace the unified kingdom provided, the dragons continued to allow the elected ruler to fly on their backs.

The dragons slowed their flight, coasting through the air near each other.

“Look at your new kingdom.” He said. Together they looked down and saw the small island of Nantrador which held the Capital they had just departed from. They were high enough that they could see the eastern and western continents on either side of the island. “That’s Amaenivarra to the north and Tantilan to the south.”

“It’s beautiful up here. We are so high up, and Nantrador looks tiny, but the world still looks so big.” Cahaya paused for a moment, caught up in a feeling of fear, not for herself and the fact that she was sitting on the back of an unfamiliar dragon and a single wrong move away from her death, but of failing the responsibility that had now been passed on to her. “How do I do right by all of them?”

“By trying to do right by all of them. Cahaya, you’ve trained with the fellow candidates for the last eight years, you have all grown and matured into wonderful leaders. Any of you would have made a wonderful Dragon Ruler, but out of all the candidates we chose you. You won’t be alone, you’ll have your Dragon Riders and all the other councilors to rely on for advice, guidance and support. Just because you are the Queen, doesn’t mean you are ruling alone.”

“I’m just terrified I’ll mess everything up. I’ll make the wrong decision and something terrible will happen and the world will end.” She wrung her hands together.

“Cahaya—” He started with a slight edge of disapproval in his voice.

“I’m sorry, I never used to worry like this, but I feel like the stakes have just been raised to the highest level and everything is just becoming so real to me now. I didn’t expect to be chosen as Queen, or even a Rider, or even a candidate!” She added. “Now, I’m here, I have this crown on my head, I’m sitting on a dragon flying through the sky and it just doesn’t seem real.”

“I felt the same thing on my first flight, and this is what my predecessor told me, ‘we have a year together for you to learn from me, to adjust to your new position, and to gain confidence in leading. You were not chosen by mistake, but you will make mistakes and that’s ok as long as you learn from them.’ Cahaya, no matter what you, I’m sure you won’t make any world ending mistakes.”

“How do you know?” She whispered.

“Because worlds don’t end, they simply change.”


	2. Willem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://inkarnate.com/m/YyMjKg--re-beginnings  
> World map for reference.

#  Willem 

The sun was beating down on the city of Katal, causing an awful stench to rise from its filthy inhabitants. It hadn’t rained in two moons and the people of the city were growing wearier and more irritable every day. A reddish haze of dust hung in the air making it even drier and harder to breathe. Every day the desert encroached on more of Katalan.

Willem walked down the street with wary eyes, not wanting to draw attention to himself. When the city was like this, thirsty and delusional from the heat, it was more dangerous than usual, fights at the city wells were barely contained before more broke out and thieves lurked on every corner waiting for a faint person to cross their path.

Willem had learned long ago to never carry all his money in one bag, and so, in his waist pouch he carried a couple of silver coins, strapped to his leg was a small dagger and a couple of gold coins. In each of his sleeves, he had hidden a few more coins. Willem’s father had taught him this when he was very young and, in turn, Willem had taught his sons to do the same.

Arriving at his house, Willem paused outside the door and scanned the street, trusting his senses to tell him if anything was out of place. Finishing his survey, he stepped into the house immediately spotting his wife and his two youngest children.

The house was small, with one main room and a small room attached to the back of the house where they slept. It was part of the chain of houses that created the winding streets of Katal. They didn’t have much furniture, but they were happy. Willem had resigned his claim to a more elaborate life when he married against his father’s wishes and took a woman from the Sand Tribes as his wife. He was removed from the city council, but granted a place in the guard and occasionally a council member would invite him to a meeting when they faced a very complex challenge. Willem was known for his wisdom and creative thinking that had saved the city a number of times.

“Father!” Juna exclaimed running over to him on her short legs. He lifted her and spun once before settling her on his hip.

“How’s my little girl today?” he asked as she clapped her hands in delight.

“I saw a kitty today! It was orange here,” she placed her hand on the side of his face, “and black here!” she tapped his shoulder, grinning.

He walked over to his wife, Freya and kissed her cheek as she continued to prepare the vegetables for supper. “Where are the boys?” Willem asked as he ruffled the hair of his youngest daughter, Laetzia. His sons were not in the house, but were probably playing nearby with the other children in the area.

“I sent them to Old Thala’s to fetch me a spool of thread. They should be back in a minute or two. Did you have a good day?” Her brown eyes searched his face to find the truth he would never speak aloud in front of the children.

“Yes, there was much for me to do today, endless squabbles at the well and many people faint from the heat.” Willem cast a worried look toward the door. The city was not a safe place right now and it worried him to have his sons out, unprotected and not nearly as cautious as they should be. Dante was ten years old and Renato was eight, but that was not enough to give them the sense to hurry to and from their errand. “I’m going to look for them.” Willem decided before kissing Juna on the cheek and setting her down next to her sister. His boys were probably ok, but he was willing to err on the side of caution while the city was in the unstable state.

It hadn’t always been like this. Katalan used to be flourishing with life, even in the small southern desert, there were many plants that grew in the arid heat, but that was during the time of the Dragon Rulers. It had now been over three hundred years since the last Dragon Ruler and since the wall had been raised up out of the Middle Sea to divide the eastern continent from the western continent. The wall itself wasn’t a problem until the armies of Katalan had tried to break through it and the spells that protected the wall caused it to ignite with an ever-burning fire. That fire was the real problem. The continual burning was slowly turning Katalan into an oven that grew progressively hotter. The rivers stopped flooding in the spring which caused the flood plains to stop producing bountiful harvests. Then the desert in the south started getting hotter and expanding, the plants that used to thrive in the dry heat withered to dust and the wells around the desert started to dry up. Death was slowly eating away at Katalan as punishment for the role the province had played in the downfall of the Dragon Rulers.

He quickly located the boys running down the street towards home and herded them inside. Freya breathed a sigh of relief when the door flew open and Renato ran through the door with a large grin on his face. Dante followed behind, staying close to his father.

Renato skidded to a halt a couple inches away from her and tugged on her skirt. “I got your thread!” His dark eyes were sparkling with life and Freya smiled effortlessly back at him.

“Why thank you my son” she said in the tongue of her people, the Sand Tribes. Renato giggled and ran away to go play with his brother.

In the evening, after the children had been put to bed, Willem summoned Freya onto the roof.

“The city is falling apart. Today, someone was killed in a fight at the well. Tomorrow there will be more, not to mention those who have started to die because they won’t go near the well. Johar is leaving with his family tomorrow, you must go with him. I will stay here for a few more days then I will follow.”

“No, don’t send me.” Freya’s eyes grew wide in darkness. “It will rain soon, and everything will be fine. I don’t want to leave without you. Come with me if I have to go. Please Willem.”

“There are things I need to finish in the city. I cannot go tomorrow, but I promise I will be with you as soon as I can.” It was very difficult for him to force her away when she pleaded like that. Her brown eyes were watery, and it made his heart ache to think of sending her away from his protection at such a dangerous time, but it had to be done. “Think of the children. It’s not safe for them here, we should have left this city long ago and gone to a smaller town with less problems.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face against her shoulder. “I will leave for the sake of the children, but only if you promise me that you will do nothing foolish in between the time when I leave and when you join me again. I expect you to catch up with us on the road because we will be traveling slowly for the sake of the children and you will be riding quickly, not stopping until you are next to me again. Promise me.”

“I will do what needs to be done then I will leave the city, not stopping until I am with you again.” He tilted her face up and pressed his lips to hers.

The next morning, Willem woke early and met Johar in the market. Even though the sun was barely up, there were people scurrying around, already working the cloud of dust back into the air. The merchants were setting up their shops, adding a bit of color to the red coated buildings and streets. The dust clung to every surface, creating a monotone world of dull red.

Willem approached Johar. “I have told Freya to be ready with the children. Take care of her until I catch up with you.”

Johar nodded. “We will be taking the south road, and we will leave our names with every inn that we stay at.” Johar’s eyes darted to meet Willem’s glaze for a second before he looked away again.

“I have not forgotten my friend,” Willem pulled a small bag out of his leather vest and placed it in Johar’s outstretched hand. “This should be enough to keep them for three weeks, I hope to join you much sooner than that, but just in case I can’t, I do not want to add any more burden to your task.”

“We will take the north road to Rimal, and sail east to Olenport, but we’ll probably have to switch ships in Mantry. I don’t think the droughts have affected them as much in Tantilan. I’m sure you’ll have caught up to us by then, but if not, it should be a safe enough place to wait for you for a week or two. I’ll keep them safe; don’t you worry.” After a moment of silence, he nodded his goodbye to Willem and left.

Willem watched his friend leave, still questioning if he was doing the right thing. A scream to his left removed all doubt from his mind and his hand instinctually flew to the sword at his hip. A young woman was standing over a man who was lying face down in the dirt, blood was leaking from a hole in his shirt where he had been stabbed. Willem ran over with his sword drawn and his eyes weary.

“What happened?” His voice was firm and held a tone of authority that seemed to surprise the girl.

“My father,” she stuttered, crouching beside him. “He sold all of our possessions. We were going to leave. They killed him and took our money. All of it!” Her hand reached out, shaking, and touched the wound on his back. “That was all we had. He was all I had.” The woman lifted her face, her eyes were wide with horror and a dreadful looked settled on her face as she realized what her father’s death meant to her fate. More than the expression on her face, Willem noted the odd yellow hue of her eyes, but he brushed that information aside for a moment.

“Do you have anyone else? An uncle? A cousin?” Willem asked, his mind was racing trying to come up with a solution to this girl’s problems.

The scarf that was covering her hair and part of her face blew loose with the breeze and now that he could see the girl’s full face, he realized she was from the Sand Tribes and shared similar features to his wife. The most noticeable difference between the two of them was their eyes. His wife had dark eyes, brown almost to the point of black, but this girl’s eyes were yellow, almost golden in color. He had never seen anyone with eyes that color before, so perhaps she wasn’t from around here.

His eyes locked with hers once again. “Help me.”

“Are you a spy?” He didn’t know if any other cities had quarrels with Katal, but with the city in such a tedious state it would make sense to strike now while everyone was weak and fatigued from the heat and lack of water, not that capturing a city on the brink of collapse made much strategic sense.

“I am not. I swear on my life.” There were people gathering around now and Willem grabbed the girl’s hand and pulled her away from the scene despite her protests. “Let me say goodbye!” She jerked her hand away and ran back to her father. Willem watched as she turned him over and looked at his face for a moment. She dipped her thumb in the blood that had pooled around him and, with her thumb, she traced a line down his face from hairline to chin. Once the strange rite was done, she picked herself up and hurried after Willem.

He started speaking as soon as she caught up to him. “You can go to the basilica and serve the gods and the priests, or I can recommend you as a servant to one of the nobles in the city. Either way, you would stand out and draw attention.”

She was shaking her head, “There is nothing left in this city for me.”

“I know, but I am leaving this city and I’d rather have you under another’s protection before I leave.”

“Where are you going, if I might ask?” Willem shot her look and she avoided his gaze. For a moment, he considered another possibility, bringing her with him, but then he shook his head.

“I sent my family away this morning. They are going north to Rimal then onto Tantilan. I’m going to join them in a few days.” His eyes narrowed as she nodded her head innocently.

“I think I’ll go to the basilica.”

“I’ll take you there now.” Willem cast one last sideways glance at her before heading to the basilica.

The basilica in Katal was not as grand as the ones in larger cities, but with its vaulted ceilings, marble columns and hand painted murals that covered the walls, it was the most magnificent public building in this city. They entered through large carved wooden doors and walked through a dimly lit hall. There was a young boy washing the floor near the end who stood up as they approached him.

“Frater, how can I serve you?” The boy asked, nodding his head in respect.

“I would like to speak to a priest. This girl wishes to serve the Gods.” Willem explained.

“I will take you to Pater Culos. He will serve you.” The boy nodded again. They followed him across the hall to a plain wooden door. The boy grabbed a torch off the wall and whispered a word causing the torch to ignite and burn. The three of them walked through a dark tunnel and up a curving flight of stairs that opened into daylight. The room had only columns for walls, with drapes of fine, red linen that were tied against the columns to let in the light and show off the view. They were above the city and, if not for the ever present dust that hung in the air, Willem would have been able see everything, from the market, to the central courtyard and far out into the desert beyond the city gates.

A decrepit old man stirred on the couch in the middle of the room. Willem quickly took in the room around himself. There were two couches with red cushions and frames made of curling branches in the center of the room. To the side was a table with two chairs and an assortment of fruits, cheeses and breads.

“Make yourself known.” The old man said, inclining his head toward them, but never looking at them.

“I am Willem. I bring you a girl, for your service. She has nowhere else to go.”

The old man scratched his head, his filmy eyes unmoving, then waved them forward. “She is your daughter?”

“No, she is alone and in need of help.” Willem said walking toward the man. He did not sit down.

“Sorer, come closer, have a seat. Do you wish to serve?” The old man asked motioning to the couch across from him.

“Yes, I am alone, and I wish to serve, should you let me.” She sat delicately on the edge of the sofa, waiting to hear her fate.

“Sorer, you will be called Sola, for you are alone in this foreign country.” Willem watched as the girl stiffened and darted a glance at him. She opened her mouth to protest, but the Pater cut her off. “The ears hear what the eyes do not see.” The girl was sitting very still, her expression now perfectly blank. Willem looked back and forth between the two of them, unsure of the meaning behind the Pater’s words and why they had caused such a reaction in the girl.

After a pause, he realized neither of them were going to explain themselves and he had many things to do, so he excused himself. “I need to go. You will be safe here. Serve the gods and stay out of trouble. Let the rains pour over you.” Willem rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment before he turned to leave.

“Let the rains pour over you.” The girl replied.

As he followed the servant boy out of the room, he heard the old man speak to the girl in a voice so soft he wasn’t sure if he really heard it. “So, how is the other world?”


	3. Zandra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://inkarnate.com/m/YyMjKg--re-beginnings

#  Zandra 

Tantil was the largest city on the eastern continent. It was built many millennia ago, before Alaena, the first Dragon Queen had ridden on the back of a dragon, when strongholds were built to grand and impregnable standards. Tantil was the definition of a fortress. In all the time that it stood, there had never been a city that could be called its equal.

Zandra was the eldest child of Prince Roshin, whose father was Tanis, the current King of Tantil. She knew she would never inherit the throne. That privilege would go to her younger brother, the eldest son and rightful heir. It was her job to wear dazzling dresses, have good posture, and excel at needlepoint, so that once she was old enough, she could be married off to some noble as a bargaining chip to get whatever it was that the noble was offering.

Her mother’s servant appeared in the doorway of her chambers. “Princess Sanem wishes you to join her for lunch.”

“Hello Blyne, I’ll go down in a minute, I have to make sure my dolls get married first.” Zandra held up her dolls to show the servant.

A quiet sigh escaped Blyne’s lips. “Your mother has something to tell you. It would be best to not keep her waiting.”

“A marriage is the key to a strong city,” Zandra’s eyes didn’t move from her dolls, “so my dolls must get married before I go to lunch or else their whole city could be taken over before I return.” She smiled and resumed the happy story of her dolls’ marriage, murmuring under her breath.

Once her dolls were happily wed, she stood up and walked with Blyne. She hummed to herself as she skipped down the steps of the castle and crossed the courtyard to the north tower where Princess Sanem lived. Zandra knew she was too old to be playing with dolls, but there wasn’t much else to do in the palace. Also, playing with dolls was her way of playing out every possible scenario of her life before it happened. It had stopped being a game of make-belief years ago, and had transformed into a game of strategy. It also kept an air of childishness over her that stopped people from seeing how mature she had become in the past five years.

“Hello Mother.” Zandra said politely ask she sat down at the table. “Where are my brothers?” she asked noticing the empty chairs where Penti, Silvi and Soren usually sat.

“They are having lunch with their father.” They ate their food in silence for a moment. Zandra swung her legs absentmindedly.

“Zandra,” Princess Sanem said coldly, glaring at her swinging legs. “Your father has found a suitable young man for you in Mylon. In a few weeks, Prince Nikos will arrive in Tantil and your betrothal will be arranged. Eventually, you will marry and live with him in the mountains.”

Zandra looked around the room trying to decide how to react. She pursed her lips before she spoke, “I haven’t met him yet, so I won’t be angry, but if he’s ugly and smells funny, I’ll hate him forever.” She turned her nose up, but continued eating her lunch.

“No matter what he looks like, you will do as you’re told, and you will marry him and have his children. He is your best option and you will be well taken care of.” Her mother shifted her stern look from Zandra to something in the corner of the room, Zandra resisted the urge to turn her head and look at what had caught her mother’s eye.

She exhaled through her noise loudly, not protesting aloud, but still making it known that she was not impressed with the arrangement.

Honestly, this marriage was expected. In fact, she was surprised it hadn’t come sooner. She was the least disappointing disappointment her parents had ever had because she was the eldest child and therefore, she should be a son, the rightful heir to the city and a magnificent ruler. However, she was a girl and so, a disappointment, but she could be much worse. She could be ugly and stubborn or clumsy and an idiot, but she wasn’t. She was beautiful and graceful. She knew her role and she played it well. 

Zandra ate her lunch in silence. Her mother watched her and occasionally commented on something her brothers had done or what had gone on in court today. Zandra gazed out the window, watching the birds fly in swarms, changing direction as a unit rather than individuals.

When her mother left, Mater Fara came to continue her lessons. Today, they were working on embroidery. Zandra was embroidering the sleeves of one of her dresses with a delicate silver flower pattern. She was very good at making embroidery patterns and had a keen sense of how to create a beautiful design. She enjoyed spending hours sewing the patterns she pictured in her mind and making her plans come to life.

“Princess Zandra, what a beautiful design and your stitches are nearly flawless!” Her mater exclaimed looking over her shoulder.

“It must be due to the lessons from you Mater Fara.” Zandra looked up at her, gracing her with a smile.

“You’re too kind. Since you are doing so well with your stitches, perhaps we should work on your reading and writing for the rest of today’s lesson.” Mater Fara said raising her eyebrows warning Zandra to not protest. “Since you will be leaving us one day, you will need to know how to read and write so that you can keep in contact with your mother.”

 _So, I can send intel back to my Father_ , Zandra amended in her mind, but aloud she said, “I don’t understand why I can’t just have a servant write for me.”

“Because sometimes, letters contain information that shouldn’t be spread past the writer and the reader. Once you are married, your life will eventually become more complicated and should there be a time when you need to send a note with confidential information, you will be glad you can write it yourself.” Mater Fara explained.

“Are you saying I’ll have secrets? What would I be doing that ever needed to be kept secret?” Zandra said, trying to sound shocked, but also curious about the idea of having secrets.

“You never know my princess.” Mater Fara said patting Zandra on the head. “You never know…”

She pulled out a jar of ink and a piece of parchment. "Go on, write down what I say." Zandra grasped the quill in her right hand and started writing in a horrid scrawl.

After transcribing the Mater's words until the jar of ink was nearly empty, Zandra had read back all that she had written. It was a slow process, partly because of her reading and partly because of her horrible penmanship. 

A fortnight later, Prince Nikos and his entourage arrived in Tantil. Zandra stood with her brothers, parents and the king as the prince from the mountains was welcomed into the city. He had travelled with a hundred men, along with his mother and one of his younger sisters. He was younger than Zandra had expected, but he still looked to be years older than herself. He looked to be very grungy from his journey with dirt smeared across his face and streaked through his dull hair. His armor was dull from days of traveling.

“Forgive me your highness, for appearing in such a state, but the roads are very dusty, and we have been riding a long way.” He bowed deeply to the king, extending his arm with a flourish.

“There will be a bath ready for you immediately. Let me introduce my family, my eldest son, the Crown Prince Roshin and his wife, Princess Sanem and their sons, Prince Penti, Prince Silvi and Prince Soren and their daughter Princess Zandra.” Everyone bowed at the mention of his or her name. Nikos nodded in acknowledgement of each person.

“This is my mother, Queen Handri of Mylon and my sister, Princess Liza.” Two women stepped forward, one looked to be about Zandra’s age with auburn hair and the other was elderly with greying red hair, she spoke up. “Thank you for inviting us to the beautiful city of Tantil, we are honored by your request, but very tired from our journey, so we ask to be shown to our chambers to wash and rest immediately.”

The king nodded and they were ushered to the west tower by many servants. Zandra watched after them both skeptical but pleased because her prince was not a fat old man, nor was he vain because a vain man would never appear in front of a king with a dirty face and dull armor.

As soon as the king went back into the castle, Zandra went back to her chambers. There was a lot to be done, she needed to get ready for the banquet tonight and prepare for the years to come.


	4. Rylen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://inkarnate.com/m/YyMjKg--re-beginnings

#  Rylen 

“Shut up, they’re comin’!” Wilben hissed in the dark. There were three of them crouched in the alley waiting for the guards to pass.

“It’ll be fine Bennyboy, no need to cry tonight.” Destan teased, elbowing Wilben in the ribs.

“I’ll be taking your tongues if you both don’t shut it right now.” The warning was razor sharp in Rylen’s voice. He was the oldest and most experienced of the party. He didn’t need the kids to help him, but they needed to learn, so he was saddled with the burden of keeping these two dimwits alive tonight. From his experience, younger usually meant dumber, and these two looked ready to prove him right once again.

The clink of chain mail caught Rylen’s attention. He nudged the boys, and jerked his chin in the direction of the approaching guards. He gave a nod to the boys then, slouching his shoulders and curling his hand into his chest, he stepped out into the street, dragging his foot, and bushed past the guards.

Then he tripped. With a grunt, he fell to the ground and lay there sprawled out in the dirt. The guards spun around to look at him and, in that instant, Wilben and Destan flew out the shadows, their knives already drawn, and killed the guards silently. Rylen got up quickly and helped carry the bodies back into the shadows to remove the armor. Wilben and Destan dressed in the chain male they stripped off the guards, and wore the city guard colors underneath. They donned heavy cloaks over the armor to hide it. The remaining armor was hidden in a hay wagon owned by an innocent-looking old man. In the morning, the old man would roll the wagon out of the city, waving to the guards watching from the wall and deliver the hidden contents to the Man without a Throne. The two boys crept through the shadows toward the city wall while Rylen hopped from roof to roof, staying close, but out of sight. He would be their protection if something went wrong.

Everything went smoothly and they made it out of Mantry without anyone noticing. They walked through the night and reached their camp at daybreak. They went straight to Ketrane’s tent and found him awake, staring at the pieces on the map of the eastern continent. He stood and threw a light blanket over the map as they entered.

“We got two sets of city guard armor.” Rylen told Ketrane before turning to Wilben and Destan, “Take it off, put it on the table.” Rylen jerked his chin in the direction of the table in the corner of room. “The missing pieces are in the hay wagon and will be delivered in the morning.”

He waited for them to leave before saying any more to Ketrane. “There were six guards on the north-northwest section of the wall and twenty on the long north side.”

Together they uncovered the map and stared at the pieces. “We have thirty sets of complete guard’s armor and four sets of incomplete armor.” Ketrane studied the pieces, he had once explained to Rylen that he didn’t see just pieces, he saw the men that the pieces represented. He could see the battles and how they would turn out, who would win and at what cost. He was a brilliant strategist and he loved his people. In return, they pledged their lives to him in hopes that one day, he would command his armies to overthrow the cities and they would all be cared for. Although his humility would never allow him to say the words aloud, Ketrane was setting himself up to be the ruler of a unified Kesro and Rylen knew the people would welcome him with open arms.

“You need to go back into the city tonight and get the remaining pieces. We have fifteen guards on our side, twenty homes, eight of which have false walls, and about eighty servants in the castle. A little bit longer and we will have enough of the city on our side to conquer it without difficulty.” Ketrane looked at Rylen. “This will be our first city, after we hold Mantry, others will follow. I have been working on plans for Serac and Talar, but both are very well protected, and they will be difficult to take.”

A young boy entered the tent, out of breath and red-faced, “Dem Ketrane,” the boy gasped for air, “Prince Nikos of Mylon is in Tantil. He’s talking with the king about marrying Princess Zandra.”

“Thank you.” He said and turned around to think. The boy was backing out of the tent when Ketrane spun around, “Wait! What’s your name?”

“Samly.” He puffed out his chest and stood tall as Ketrane walked over to him.

“How old are you?”

“Almost ten, Dem.” He looked straight ahead not moving.

“My name is Ketrane, unless someone can prove I am a deity, you and everyone else will call me by my name.” He grabbed a loaf of bread from his table. “Thank you for your message Samly, it is a great service to me, and I am grateful. Take this,” He gave the boy the loaf of bread, “share it with your friends. Spread the word that the Man without a Throne is at their service.”

“Thank you…Ketrane.” The boy bowed, in awe of the man that stood in front of him.

“I hope that you will remain in my service as well, we could use men like you—”

“But I’m a boy!” Samly exclaimed.

Ketrane looked surprised. “Indeed, you are. You have the body of a boy, but the body is only one measure of a man. It is your heart and your actions that determine whether you are a man or a boy. Some grow old and wrinkled, yet remain babies in their heart.” Samly looked quizzically at Ketrane, but remained silent.

“Samly,” Ketrane started, “where are your parents?”

“My mother left my father and me to serve the gods at the basilica and then my father got killed by the city guard during a drought last year. I lived with my uncle for a while, but he was very poor and had to take care of his own children before me, so I left to join you and your men.”

“Have you been treated well in my camp?” Ketrane’s brow furrowed as he anxiously awaited the answer like it was of great importance.

“Yes, there is a couple of us boys who stick together. Atares, he looks after us, makes sure we get a bit of meat in our stew every day.” Samly looked Ketrane in the eye. “Atares is a true man.”

“I’m sure he is. Tell him to come see me one day when he isn’t busy. And you Samly, make sure that you come and visit me too.” Ketrane smiled down at the boy.

“I will! Goodbye De—Ketrane. Let the rains pour over you.” Samly said the common blessing before leaving.

“Let the rains pour over everyone.” Ketrane murmured after Samly was gone. He went back to the map. “What do we know about Zandra and Nikos?”

“Zandra is thirteen years old, so they will have to wait until she is old enough to marry. Nikos is eighteen, he seems to have the wisdom of his father, so the mountain people will be taken care of. With Tantil running out of water I can only assume the royal family is trying to build ties in other cities, so they have a place to flee. Mylon has the most water in all of Kesro, so they make ideal allies for Tantil. I don’t believe King Tanis has any plans for conquest, but I wouldn’t put it past Prince Roshin.” Rylen looked at the map judging army size and resources.

“We will start laying groundwork in Mylon, but that will be a long-term plan. We need to get a hold on Tantil because their king is old and when he dies, we need to be ready to take the city before his son can get comfortable. We need people inside Tantil by tomorrow. I want to know everything the king does and says and I want to know about Roshin, his wife, Zandra, Penti, the other two children, Nikos and all the family he brought with him. This information is going to shape how we proceed for the next couple of years, so I need to know everything.”

“I’ll speak with Jordis before I leave—” Rylen started, speaking of Ketrane’s intelligence officer.

“I’ll do that. I haven’t spoken with her in a while and I’m smart enough to keep tabs on my most trusted comrades’ loyalty.” Ketrane flashed a grin at Rylen. There was a pause before Ketrane blurted out a surprising comment. “You need an apprentice.”

Rylen blinked twice. “Sorry, what?” He arched an eyebrow, Ketrane knew that Rylen didn’t have the patience for boys who only endangered tasks. For the better part of the last decade, Rylen had been working on his own, occasionally teaming up with other men to do complex missions.

“I want you to start training others. You’re a great asset and we need more men like you with your skills.”

“That will only slow me down. I don’t have time to babysit some unskilled child while I’m on a mission. It would be too dangerous.” Rylen protested. He hated working with others, especially others with less experience than him. “Jordis doesn’t have an apprentice.”

“Jordis knows how to accept the help of others and I have already found someone for you, follow me.” Ketrane was grinning and Rylen’s frown only seemed to amuse him more. “Before you say anything, you should know I made her start physical training three months ago.”

Rylen’s step faltered and he stopped. “Her? You’re making me babysit a girl?”

“No, I’m making you train another you.” They stepped onto the training field and Rylen looked around, searching for the girl among the fighters. He only spotted her when they were a couple paces off. She had her back to them, but Rylen could see she was a bit smaller than the men around her. Her hair was gathered into a bun on top of her head like half the men standing with her. She was wearing pants and a shirt with a leather breastplate, not a dress or a skirt.

“Sanchiri, this is Rylen. He’s going to continue your training.” She turned around looked at them.

She was young, she could be eighteen at the oldest. Rylen looked at her noting her lean muscles. She opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her. “Run.”

“How far?” She asked, surprising him with a lack of protest.

“Until I tell you to stop.” He had to hide his grin as she turned on her heel and started running. He watched her cut cleanly through the field of fighting men making a list of flaws and skills she had.

“Train her well.” Ketrane said quietly, a warning and a plea.

“I do everything well.” Rylen said before running after her.

When he caught up to Sanchiri on the far side of the training field, she slowed down and stopped. He raised an eyebrow, “Did I say you should stop?”

She started running again, and headed for the trail out of camp. Rylen kept pace with her and started lecturing once they were running straight down the trail. “Roads are generally a bad idea for an escape. They are straight, open and, unless you are very fast, give you no advantage. They are also very predictable. How do you escape? Tell me the general things that add distance between you and whatever it is that’s trying to catch you.”

“Run faster?”

“Speed is one factor, but if it comes down to a sprinting race, I wouldn’t bet on you. How do you make yourself faster than your opponent?” Rylen asked, trying to make her think strategically.

“Use obstacles. If I can navigate an obstacle better than they can, I’ll gain distance.”

“Good, what else?” He prompted.

“If I know the route I’m going, I can run without slowing down, and if I get enough distance, they will have to pause and look for me at every turn.”

“And once you’re far enough away, if they don’t know your face, you can disappear around a corner and blend in with a crowd.” They jogged in silence for a while before Rylen held up his hand and they stopped. “Here’s the deal. Once you can beat me back to camp, you can come on a mission with me.” Rylen watched Sanchiri’s face as she looked back up the curving trail back to camp. She set her mouth and started jogging back up the road. Rylen watched her for a moment before he turned, vaulted a fallen log and headed straight through the trees.


	5. Nikos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://inkarnate.com/m/YyMjKg--re-beginnings

#  Nikos 

“Close those windows and find something to block out the light. Gods, it’s so bright in this castle.” Nikos said walking to one of the many windows in his room. A splash of color caught his eye. A dragon with deep purple stripes sat on the tiled roof of one of the towers. Nikos inhaled sharply, “Taso,” he called to his servant, “there’s a dragon on that tower, a purple one! Look at her, it’s gorgeous!” He grabbed his sketchpad and quickly outlined the scene, making note of the shape of its tail and the curve of its wings.

“Your bath is ready.” Taso said, motioning to the steaming tub. Nikos finished his sketch then settled into the tub. Taso picked up a cloth and started scrubbing Nikos’s back, trying to remove the layers of dirt and sweat that had built up on their journey. When he was clean, he rose out of the bathwater and dried himself in front of the mirror.

He twisted back and forth in front of the mirror, looking at his body. He was strong and lean, and he had at least a dozen scars on his torso and back from fights with wild animals or other boys. He looked at his face, examining the stubble that grew over his jaw, “Should I shave? No, I don’t want to look like a boy when dealing with Tanis and Roshim. Set out my green tunic, I’m going to wear it tonight.”

“I’ll go find it now sir.” Taso left the room in search of the belongings, leaving Nikos by himself. He wrapped his towel sat at the desk by the window started adding details to the new sketch. He heard the door creak and assumed it was Taso returning, but after a moment, the lack of weighted down footsteps made him turn around. He glanced at the door, noticing it was now half-open, a small movement caught his eye and he jumped to his feet.

“Princess!” He exclaimed, recognizing the dark-haired girl that sat on the edge of his table, “what are you doing here?” He self-consciously pulled at his towel, trying to make it cover more of his body.

“I live here.” She said, her voice high and clear.

“I meant, in my chambers.” She gave him look that said, she knew what he meant, and she didn’t care much.

“Does it bother you?” She raised a delicate eyebrow.

“Well, if your timing had been off, this conversation would have occurred while I was in the bath.” Nikos cleared his throat.

“And that would have bothered you, even though later today you’re going to negotiate with Roshim and Tanis over where I’ll spend the rest of my life.” He stood there unsure of how to respond, so she continued. “And you see, my timing wasn’t off. King Tanis will decide my fate now, but make no mistake, in the long run, it will be me you need to win over.”

Her words were meant to be a warning to him. She was telling him he would need her on his side in order to succeed. He gave a small chuckle, “Where do you want to spend the rest of your life? Under the shadow of your family here in Tantil, or in Mylon, where you can be queen and never overshadowed.”

She gave an indifferent shrug, hopped off the table, and wandered over to him. She glanced at his drawing. “You did this.” It wasn’t really a question and she didn’t sound very impressed.

“Yes. I like dragons and drawing them is easier than catching them.” He looked down and traced a long scar that crossed his ribs.

“That’s from a dragon?” She asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Yes, and that one is from a bear,” he pointed to a mark on his bicep, “lion, wolf, dragon again, dog, Nawin—he’s my combat trainer, Liza…” he named the cause of each of his marks, proudly showing his status as a warrior.

“Scars are a display of status for your people then.” She deduced.

“Yes—”

“Wouldn’t the best fighters have no scars?”

“You get scars by fighting the difficult fights. A fighter with no scars is simply a coward who only fought those weaker than him.” Nikos watched her face, gauging her reaction. She seemed to accept the information. “What do you like to do?” He asked, if she was judging him, he could judge her as well. Two could play that game very easily.

“I am good at needlework and I’ve been told I am a fine dancer.” She gave a smile and her eyes glazed over just the tiniest bit. For a second, she became the image of a docile princess that would obey commands and be a pawn in everyone else’s game. It didn’t line up with her unannounced entry into his chambers to question him.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but her eyes darted to the door. The gleam returned to her eyes in that moment. “I’ll see you later.” She slipped out of the room quickly and without a sound.

Nikos stood there for a moment, holding on to the image of her in his mind. She was young, and yet, she was beautiful, and he was supposed to marry her. Taso walked in then with another servant, carrying a couple trunks filled with clothing and armor. “Do you need something sir?” Taso asked, noting how his prince was standing at attention.

Nikos shook his head, clearing the image of the princess from his mind. “No…wait, yes, I need a tunic, just put it on the chair. I am going to sleep for one hour, please wake me so I can meet with the king before supper.”

“Yes sir. I’ll be back to wake you and help you dress.”

“Thank you.” Nikos climbed into the bed, which was heavenly compared with the bedrolls or tavern beds he had grown accustom to over the past couple of weeks of travel. He was asleep within seconds.

“Prince Nikos, once again, welcome to Tantil.” King Tanis said as Nikos bowed before him.

“Thank you, your majesty.” Nikos bowed to Prince Roshim as well. They settled into ornately carved and gilded couches padded with soft blood red cushions.

“Have some wine my boy, and tell me how your father is.” Tanis said, slapping him on the back, “Is he still wrestling with all the beasts that live in your mountains?”

“As long as there is air in his lungs and blood in his veins, he will fight the beasts.” Nikos’s father, Arrelinon, was late in his years, yet he still led hunting parties and consistently had more success than the younger men.

“Why exactly has your father not joined you on your visit to our city?” Roshim asked.

“Practice,” Nikos stated with his arms open, showing that he had nothing to hide. “My father is keen on educating me in all aspects of ruling a city. I have watched him negotiate many deals with all sorts of people, and now, it is my turn to negotiate a deal.” He flashed a smile. Tanis seemed to appreciate Nikos’s answer and poured two glasses of wine. He offered one to Nikos, who accepted and took a sip. “This is very good wine. It is from here, yes?”

“Yes, it is from the vineyards down by the Great Sea. Perhaps you would like to take a barrel or two back with you when you leave to share with your father?” Tanis asked.

“That would be a great blessing.” Nikos clasped his hands together and paused for a moment, choosing his words. “Tantil is the greatest city in our land, and you are asking me, the prince of Mylon, a humble mountain city, to marry your daughter, Zandra. Surely, there are suitors much closer and of greater importance than me, so I must ask why you have considered me?”

“It’s true, Mylon is small and tucked away in the mountains without much hope of expansion, but as the desert grows and the drought creeps closer to my great city, our water supply will be depleted, and our food will turn to dust. When that day comes, all I ask is that you have a couple of rooms, maybe even a quaint house available in your city for the family of your wife.”

“What makes you think the drought will not affect Mylon?”

“Your water comes from deep in the mountains, and with aid from a large city, you could build a dam in the river and make yourself a nice lake in the valley, with irrigation channels to help water your fields and produce bountiful harvests. The drought and famine wouldn’t affect you and all your people would thrive.” Nikos appraised the king’s strategy of appealing to his compassion and love for his people. Apparently, the king had done his research on the culture and values of the Mylonan people.

Roshim hastily added to Tanis’ persuasive argument. “They will sing songs and write books of your wisdom that saved them. They will make gold statues of you and you’ll be the most famous king Mylon has ever known. Your legacy will live on for generations.” The prince of Tantilan did not have the tact or knowledge to deliver the skilled arguments his father was trying to make.

Nikos narrowed his eyes, the prince was his senior in age, but they both held equal titles, so Nikos was in a position to rebuke the man if he wanted; and he did want to. “Am I a god that I need statues of myself crafted? _If_ I marry the princess and _if_ I have a dam and irrigation channels built in time and _if_ that helps my people survive unscathed, _then_ I will have helped my people by upholding my duty to protect them and nothing more. I am a man and I do not wish to be worshiped as some sort of false god. A man who fails his people is just a man, but if a man sets himself up as a god and then fails his people, he is a liar and a betrayer and much more likely to be killed for his mistakes.” Nikos sipped his wine before looking back to Roshim. The prince was seething, but he held his ground. At that moment, Nikos decided negotiations would go better with Roshim out of the way, so he added one more blow to his calm rebuke, “Perhaps that is why the walls around your palace stand taller than the walls around the city.”

Roshim jumped to his feet, no longer able to control his temper. “Are you judging me boy? Just because we choose to rule our city with a heavy hand of godly judgement and fear, do you think your passive ruling is superior? You think we wanted to give you the girl—”

Tanis raised a hand cutting off his son’s outburst. “Silence! The boy has spoken wisely and yet you rebuke him. Indeed, you are the foolish false god he talks about and one day your people will certainly turn on you. Is this not why we are making alliances to protect ourselves when they come for you? Leave before you ruin everything.” Roshim stood and stormed out of the room.

After the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind Roshim, Tanis spoke again. “I apologize for my son’s behavior; he has always had a bad temper and a lack of judgement. I fear for the day I die and set the city under his control.” The aging king sighed and hung his head in his hands. “This is why I need you to marry the princess. Once I am gone and the drought overtakes Tantil, the people will turn on Roshim and slaughter my family. I want the princess to be safe in your protection by then. If my family can make it to Mylon, I would be thankful if you could provide them shelter. In exchange, I would be glad to send builders to Mylon to help dig trenches for the irrigation, so that my family could have a future for themselves once they reached your city. I just want them to be safe and to have a future because I assure you, there is nothing waiting for them in this once great city but death and destruction.” Tanis pleaded.

“If I were to accept your offer, would the princess return to Mylon with me now? Along with the builders?”

“I think it would be best to keep the princess here in Tantil for two more years, she is still quite young, and I’d like to give her time to become accustomed to the betrothal before you marry. In two years, I could send her to Mylon along with the builders I have promised. Or I could send the builders now as a gesture of good faith, the sooner the irrigation channels are dug, the sooner you can start reaping bountiful harvests and your people will thrive with such a secure source of food.” The king was once again prevailing on his love for his people, but Nikos thought he saw the plan it was trying to mask. The king was trying to get men into Mylon, but what he intended to do with those men was still unclear.

Nikos watched the king, unsure of what he should do next. He didn’t want to accept the offer without council and heavy consideration, but it stirred suspicion in his mind to watch the old king share his motivations so easily. His father had raised him to be suspicious of foreigners, especially those from the large cities in the south. His father’s words rang in his mind, _The greater the city, the greater the liar_. Tantil was the greatest city in the world and here was Nikos, negotiating with the greatest man in the greatest city. The man before Nikos did not hold his power by openly sharing all his plans or by trusting strangers; he held his power through deception, cunning and by knowing his opponents so well they couldn’t get away with a lie even if they tried.

“Thank you for offer, of course I must consult my council before I give you an answer, your majesty.” Nikos said politely.

“Of course, I would expect nothing less!” The king patted his back. “Let’s make our way to the Great Hall and join the feast!”


	6. Jak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://inkarnate.com/m/YyMjKg--re-beginnings

#  Jak 

“You’re telling me that Ketrane is planning an attack on the city and that the people support it because our king is an idiot.” Jak leaned against the wall, his eyes wandering lazily around the room.

The young woman nodded. “If it comes to a fight, the king will be overthrown. Ketrane wishes for you to warn the king and advise him to flee the city.” She was clean, and dressed in simple clothes, but Jak could tell she was a street rat from the way she held herself. She stood with a posture that meant to look relaxed, but every now and then, she would shift her weight onto her toes, ready to move at a moment’s notice.

Jak flipped her a coin. “Now to make sure you’re telling me the truth Amela, I’d like to remind you of your sweet, little sister, Lena, I believe she is still a slave for that merchant, Hanser. I’ve heard he’s a kind man and not prone to beating his property, but everyone can have a bad day, am I right?” The woman stiffened at the mention of her younger sister. Her fingers twitched toward her side where she had a knife concealed in her pocket. Jak rolled his eyes and shrugged, “I mean her no harm, I just want to make sure you don’t forget any details.”

“You’re a monster!” Fire flashed in her eyes and she rocked onto her toes. Her hand disappeared into her pocket.

Jak sighed, “That’s a matter of perspective. If you prefer to view me as a monster to make your betrayal seem less significant then go right ahead, but please, hurry up and tell me what you know, I have other horrendous tasks to complete today, children to drown, pregnant mothers to murder…slavers to anger.” Her mouth gaped open as she stared at him for a moment before she begrudgingly shared her intelligence from Ketrane’s camp. Once he was satisfied, she had told him everything, he gave her another coin and she scurried away, checking over her shoulder as she disappeared into the shadows.

Jak whistled a tune to himself as he headed to the council meeting. He paused outside the palace gate and slipped a sweet from his sleeve, crouching near Ashome, a beggar boy, he whispered, “Did anyone interesting come to visit you today?”

The boy squinted with his weak eyes to look at Jak. “Just the usual, servants coming and going, merchants trying to sell their fancy cloth and wine. There was a woman though, but she said she had a meeting with the king.”

When Jak said nothing, the boy continued. “She was dressed nicely, but she didn’t have many servants with her, so I couldn’t tell how important she was, but one of them was carrying a strange box, it looked like it was made of wood, but it was,” the boy paused unsure of how to describe what he had seen, “shiny?”

“Who was carrying it?”

“Just one of her servants, a tall man with skin as black as night, he had a large scythe with a golden handle.” The boy was obviously intimidated by the stature of the man.

“And the woman? What did she look like?”

“She wore a veil. I couldn’t see her face.”

“And the color of the veil?” Jak waited patiently for the answer he already knew was coming. Veils were not a common fashion choice in these areas. There was only one woman he knew who consistently concealed her identity with a black veil.

“Black.”

At this, Jak stood up slowly. “Thank you Ashome, here is a coin to feed you for today.” He flipped a small copper coin into the boy’s open hands. Jak entered the castle courtyard, deliberately ignoring the guard at the gate. His name was Timaty and he used to be an informer for Jak, but a couple of months ago, Jak had found out he was also informing for enemies of Mantry about Jak’s inquiries. A reminder to Jak that the questions he asked were sometimes more important to spy than the answers to those questions.

He hurried to his chambers and dressed in his fine clothes and placed a thick gold chain around his neck. He soothed the stubble on his chin, cursing the grey hairs that had appeared over the last couple years. His hair was greying at his temples as well, normally, he didn’t mind because it added to his air of superiority, but today, he missed his days of youth when his hair was thick and black and his body was thin enough to pass as athletic. Now, years of easy living had turned his muscles soft and allowed a layer of fat to build up around his midsection. At least his eyes were still an intriguing, cold, steely blue that seemed to intimidate people around him. He finished inspecting himself in the mirror and turned on the heel of his boot, striding out of his chambers. He kept his chin angled high as he made his way through the stone corridors to the council meeting.

When he strode through the double doors of the high council chambers, he observed there were six people sitting around the table, rather than the expected five. King Bellerin, with his scraggly beard, bony hands and distended gut, had been a transient figure around this table for the past three decades as his interest in politics waxed and waned with the seasons, but today, with such a regal guest in attendance, the king’s attendance was guaranteed. Gustan, the master of coin was there with his overly simple clothes, Kal and Kay, the king’s twin strategic advisors were there as well, wearing their matching gold bobbles around their necks. The law keeper, Armal, was sitting at the end of the table, quill in hand, ready to record the meeting and any decisions that were made.

Jak finally, allowed himself to rest his gaze on the sixth person at the table. A lady seated next to the king. Her clothes were simple, all black. Her face was covered by a black veil, and a loose, black dress that covered her body down to her wrists and feet, but in truth, it would have been more difficult to recognize her without her dreary garb.

“Who died?” Jak said, chuckling as he strode over to her. She stood and extended a hand to him, which he kissed with a delicate touch of his lips.

“Your sense of humor apparently.” The corner of his mouth twitched up at her joke. He pushed in her chair as she sat down again and he sat down next to her, angling his chair toward both her and the king.

King Bellerin shot an anxious glance between the two of them. “Y-you know Lady Sezara?” He waved his hand between them with a slight tremor.

The lady answered the king, “We have had business in the past, mostly trade, speaking of which, I have some items for you to look at when you have the time, Jak.” His name rolled off her tongue slowly, as if savoring the pleasure she derived from saying it. He had missed the cadence of her voice, but hearing it again for the first time in years was like a deaf man having his hearing restored.

“What brings you to the great city of Mantry, Lady Sezara?” Gustan asked, glancing up from his money records.

“Trade.” She replied simply.

“But why are you in the king’s council-” Gustan’s eyebrows furrowed together.

“It seems I have acquired a great amount of wealth and possessions which could help your city in this uncertain time. I have a large herd of camels and seeds from the far east which are already accustomed to drought. I also have some very old barrels of wine that are more exquisite than anything you’ve ever tasted in this world.” Jak’s eyes snapped to Sezara, but she was intently not looking at him.

“You have old wine?” Bellerin’s eyes widened with hope and he licked his lips. The king had a taste for fine wine and as of late, the wine crops had been awful. However, the more important thing Sezara had said was lost on the king. Jak had not missed the small breadcrumb she had dropped. She had wine better than anything from this world, meaning it probably wasn’t from this world. Which meant she had succeeded on the task that had caused their separation.

Sezara answered the king, “I do, and I had a barrel brought up in case you wanted to try some.” Sezara snapped her fingers and a servant stepped forward with a crystal decanter filled with a rich, red wine. She poured a goblet and had the servant pass it to the king. He sniffed it then drained the glass.

While everyone was watching the king, Sezara shifted in her chair and pressed her leg against Jak’s. He took a deep breath, savoring the moment of closeness, and resisting the urge lead over, lift her veil and brush his lips along her neck like he had done so many times in the past.

King Bellerin made a noise of appreciation and passed the empty goblet back to the servant. “I would like to buy every drop of wine in your possession.” He declared.

“My king,” Gustan said, leaning in to quietly contest the king’s decision. “Perhaps this is not a good idea. The people of your city are dying of thirst and it might not please them if you spent a fortune on old wine for yourself. Maybe you should devote the money to helping your people survive this drought, so they don’t get any ideas of revolting.”

Bellerin sneered. “The people will be fine. The city has faced hardships before, and we will face them again. I see no point in wasting money buying the people water when it will probably rain the day after we distribute it. Those two will manage any half-baked attempts to overtake the city.” He gestured at Kay and Kal.

“We will not be buying any wine today.” Jak said bluntly, before the king could interrupt him, he continued. “Ketrane, the Man without a Throne, is raising an army against you, my King. He will stir up trouble in the city, then attack from the outside while all the guards are busy trying to keep your own citizens from slaughtering you. He will take advantage that they are bitter that you have not provided water and food for them. They are dying and they hold you responsible and he knows that. We need to be preparing the city for an attack and part of that plan is getting the people of the city back on your side. If the people revolt, you will not have time to drink all the wine you purchase today.”

All the eyes in the room were fixed on Jak as he delivered the news that the city was closer to collapse than anyone had guessed. Gustan was the first to speak. “When will they attack?”

“We have about two weeks, maybe less until they take the city. We need to start handing out bread and water with hope that will be enough to convince the people of the city to not turn against us when Ketrane arrives.” Jak turned to the King, “If we cannot convince the people to fight on our side, then I would suggest that we start working on a plan to get you out of the city safely.”

King Bellerin’s face turned a darker shade of red than it usually was. “I will not flee my city like a rat from a sinking ship! Like a pauper! These are my people that I have been placed in charge of ruling—”

“—Except you did not rule. We ruled on your behalf.” Jak stated, gesturing at the small council of stunned people sitting at the table. Most of them had raised eyebrows in disbelief that Jak would speak that way to the king who was known to make rash choices. Jak continued, ignoring the half-formed words King Bellerin was trying to spit out. “You drank away the treasury and squandered everything your mother had left you. You have destroyed her legacy.” Jak was still in his anger, while King Bellerin sputtered and twitched, too enraged to say anything coherent. “If you ignore my advice Bellerin, the invaders will be toasting their victory with your blood in their cups.”

“Get out!” King Bellerin screeched, jumping up from his chair and knocking it to the ground. Jak stood, gave a small bow and left the council chambers. He walked through the kitchens on his way back to his chambers. Quickly grabbing a basket, he placed two loaves of bread, a block of cheese and a few pieces of fruit inside.

He whistled a tune on his way up the stairs. The king was furious and would not call for him until the city was just about to be sacked. Jak and just bought himself two weeks of relief from the king and his council.

He left the door to his chambers open upon arriving and straightened a few papers that were on the desk. He poured two glasses of wine and brought them over to his desk, as he set them down, a voice from behind interrupted him.

“Am I that predictable?” Lady Sezara asked from the doorway, gesturing to the cups of wine.

“Not at all, I just don’t like having to get up to fill my cup, so I bring two.” Jak leaned against the desk, smirking.

“There’s an easy solution to that,” Sezara sauntered into the room and picked up the bottle of wine, “Bring the bottle.” She walked over to Jak and placed a hand on his chest, and pressed her body against his as she reached around him to set the bottle on the desk. His breath caught in his throat for a moment and he reached up to her face, his hand sliding under the thin gauze of her veil. He touched the smooth skin of her neck and felt her shudder at his touch.

He lifted her veil from her face and leaned towards her, his lips dangerously close to hers. “I like the way you think.” Wanting to savor the moment of anticipation, he turned away to pick up the cups. He passed one to Sezara and she took a sip before stepping away, leaving a tangible absence where her body had been pressed against him.

“That was quite the show you put on today in the council meeting. Is that how things normally go, or are you trying to get yourself killed?” Sezara slowly took a turn about the room. She brushed her fingers over the objects she studied, gentle as a feather. It was the same way she would trail her fingers over his bare chest. With her veil removed, Jak could appreciate the features of her face more. He noted the wrinkles that now gathered at the corner of her eyes and added wisdom to her face. He hadn’t seen her in over four years, and while they had both physically changed over the years, he guessed by the way she was toying with him, that they both still felt the same about each other.

“I do actually have a plan. Ketrane is coming, either the king takes my advice and the people don’t revolt against him and slaughter everyone in this castle, or the king throws me in prison where I will be safe as the city is sacked and Ketrane frees me because I was fighting for the people.” Jak said, disclosing his plan.

“There are at least two other ways this scenario could play out, you realize that, right?” Sezara narrowed her eyes, she was no longer looking around the room, but focused on Jak. “King Bellerin could win this fight without you and you would be left to rot in prison, or Ketrane could leave you in prison after realizing you always play for the winning team.”

“Then perhaps I should start spending my time like it’s my last week as a free man.” Jak moved towards Sezara. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, their bodies pressing together. His lips brushed against her cheek, and hovered by her ear. “Would you come visit me in prison?” Anticipation pulsed through him.

“Probably not, it would be kind of difficult to explain given no one knows I’m your wife.” Their eyes locked for a moment before she continued. “I know you already have plans in motion to get out. I might as well wait for you here in comfort.” She took his hand to bring him with her as she moved over to the bed. She slowly reclined into the pillows pulling Jak with her.

“This will be the first place I’ll go once I’m out.” Jak whispered.

Feverish with desire, he finally pressed her lips to his. His heart quickened and his hands tangled into her hair. She pulled the pins out of her hair and freed her veil, tossing it aside. It slid down the side of the bed and pooled on the floor where it was soon joined by the rest of their clothing. The years of distance melted away as they twisted closer and closer together.

The sun was setting when Jak got up from the bed and slipped back into his pants. He didn’t bother with a shirt because the air was perpetually warm now, a reminder of the desert that was slowly engulfing the city. He went to his desk and tried to focus on his work, but his eyes kept wandering back to his bed, where Sezara lay sleeping with his sheets draped gently over the curve of her hips.

Thanks to Ashome, as well as Sezara’s hint at the council meeting, he was almost entirely sure that she had found the object they had been searching for. However, she hadn’t told him where she was keeping the box as soon as she came to his chambers. Jak thought through the angles, perhaps she had been too focused on seducing him to mention the box. Perhaps she wasn’t planning on disclosing everything about the box and was going to keep some of the knowledge to herself. Maybe Ashome was mistaken and his poor eyesight caused him to make an error in his reporting.

Sezara was his wife. For ten years, he had been dedicated to her alone whether they were together or apart. He knew his feelings towards her, and their recent activities had made him believe she felt the same way. However, they were both expert actors, they had to be to try and pull off the sort of scheme they were attempting, which meant she could easily pull off such a short-term deception. He had to consider the possibility that she was no longer completely devoted to him and only him. He couldn’t assume she would return to him exactly the same as she had left. Who knows what happened to her during the three years they were apart?

With those possibilities stirring around in his mind, Jak sat down at his desk and pulled out some papers and dipped a quill in the ink jar on his desk. He started writing instructions to the people he had in place to keep him safe if Bellerin decided to arrest him. He wrote out his plans in the careful codes he had created over the years and gave just enough detail to make sure his plans could be carried out, but not enough detail to get him in trouble should the letters make their way back to the King.

When he finished the letters, Jak stood and walked to the window still troubled by Sezara’s behaviour. If she was loyal, she would tell him the location of the box soon, but if she wasn’t, he would need to find it immediately. He scanned the gardens below and caught the eye of one of the servants that was casually pulling weeds. He beckoned them with a nod of his head.

Jak met the servant at his door and stepped into the hall. “I need you to find someone for me. A tall, dark skinned man, he arrived in the city recently with the Lady Sezara. I need to know where he is staying as well as where the Lady is staying. I also need to know where their goods have been stored. Delivered these messages if I am arrested, if not, return them to me in three days with the seals unbroken.” He passed the servant the letters, the wax still warm on the stiff parchment.

The servant bowed, “Do you need anything else?”

Jak heard movement from his chambers, and changed his tone from a whisper to a regular volume. “Please bring a fresh pitcher of water and some fresh linens.” With one hand, Jak raised a finger to his lips in a shushing motion while the other slid a coin into the servant’s hand.

Jak slipped back into the room and smiled at Sezara who was now sitting at the edge of the bed. She reached over and picked up Jak’s discarded shirt, slipping it on. She joined him, fitting into his arms that opened automatically to her, and looked up him with a growing smile.

“I have good news.” Her eyes sparked. “I found it.”

His face lit up, thrilled to hear her confirm her loyalty to him, but his heart sank knowing he had just betrayed hers.


	7. Jame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://inkarnate.com/m/YyMjKg--re-beginnings

#  Jame 

“All the guests are ready; we are only waiting for the Lady Kateri.” A maid reported to Jame, the father of the bride. They were standing at the foot of the grand palace staircase, waiting in anticipation for her to descend the stairs from her chambers. The stairs were intricately chiseled from a pale sandstone and polished to a smooth finish. The banisters were painted with muted dyes that added depth and life to the stairs, making them the centerpiece of the great gallery, even with the grand tapestries and the intricately sculpted pillars that suspended the vaulted ceiling. This room, the entryway of the king’s palace, was the greatest room in the city, rivaled only by the throne room itself.

A minute later, Kateri’s servant girl appeared at the top of the stairs. “May I present Lady Kateri, the betrothed of King Erathin.” Kateri floated down the stairs, the silk train of her dress flowing out behind her. She had a delicate crown of small-budded flowers woven through her dark hair and a similar bouquet in her hand. His little girl had grown into a beautiful woman and today, he was going to give her up to the protection of another man. In such dark times as these, Jame would not have been able to bare to part with her except that he could see the sparkle in her eye and the smile that was tugging at the corner of her lips. He knew that she loved the king and that he was a good man who would keep her safe at all costs. The king would be able to protect her even better than he could. He fought back the tears that were welling in his eyes and extended his hand to his daughter as she reached the last step.

“You look beautiful, my child. You look much like your mother on the day we wed, except you already love your husband and she…” He paused and laughed reminiscing in his private memories for a moment, “…well, she needed some convincing, but in the end, we came to have a most enduring relationship. I pray to all the gods that you will find many years of happiness with King Erathin and that you will be blessed with many children and good fortune.” Jame kissed the top of her head and pulled her into a tight embrace for a moment.

“Thank you, father.” She whispered against his chest. The servant reminded them of the king who was waiting for them in the basilica. “Even today, I’m not allowed to use too much of the king’s time.” Kateri said the words with a joking tone, but her father knew her well enough that there was some frustration mixed in with the comment.

They left the palace in a carriage pulled by four white horses and paraded through the streets that were lined with people waving their hands, palm branches, strips of cloth or whatever they could find. His daughter waved back, smiling at the people who would soon become her subjects. She looked regal today, in her fine silk dress and shining gold jewelry. Her hands were covered in the intricate runes drawn on by the maters and sorers of the basilica that were meant to bring her good fortune in her marriage.

It seemed like yesterday, that she had been born, just a small baby girl, with her tiny face and wisps of dark hair, perfect and free from the pain of world. Jame had done his best to keep her safe from harm and the harsh reality of their dying world, but her compassionate nature had caused many fights between them as he sought to shelter her, and she wanted to help the world. In fact, it was her good deeds and love for the people of Katal that drew the attention of King Erathin and eventually won his heart. Together, they had helped shape the city and slowed the drought-related collapse. However, with wells drying more each day, people were fleeing the city and the people were finally becoming hostile as water disappeared and survival instincts ruled in their minds. Kateri and King Erathin were determined to keep the approval of the people, in hopes that the people wouldn’t turn on them and slaughter them as had happened in other cities were the rulers were selfish and showed no compassion for the poor and starving.

He was so proud of his daughter, and looking at her now, tears welled in his eyes. They arrived at the basilica and he blinked to clear his eyes. He stepped out of the carriage and helped her out, the crowds were deafening as they entered the holy building. Trumpets blared over the outside noise and together, the father and daughter walked down the aisle toward the king.

King Erathin was waiting at the altar, looking regal in his fine silk clothes, his face showed the same joy that had glowed on Kateri’s face. Jame squeezed her hand a bit tighter, knowing that each step brought him closer to giving her away. In a way, he was losing his daughter today, but in such a way, that he couldn’t hold her back from it.

This marriage would be different from his son’s marriage, he reminded himself. He would still see his daughter after she married. He would be allowed to visit her and remain in contact with her. He would see her continue to grow into her role as a wife and queen and eventually, a mother. He would know his grandchildren. His family would grow with this marriage.

With that thought in mind, he tenderly kissed Kateri on the forehead and placed her hand in King Erathin’s. He took his place next to the queen mother and watched as the pater spoke the words of the gods that would bind his daughter in matrimony.

“From this day forward,” King Erathin declared before the pater and all who were in attendance, “I will honor and protect this woman. I share with her all that I have, whether it be the food from my table or the land that I rule. I pledge my love and my loyalty to her alone. Should I break these vows, let me wither away to dust in that same moment.” Their hands were bound together with a rope made of many materials woven together, silk, twine, a thin gold chain and chain of small iron links, a braid of blooming roses and withered grass. Each material represented the trials and blessings that they may encounter in their life together.

“You have declared this before the gods and the people you rule so that you may be held accountable to these vows until you are parted from this woman by death alone. May your life together be prosperous, fruitful and joyful. May the rains pour over you.” The pater blessed them with the common farewell, and they left the basilica to greet the crowds. Once again, the sound of the trumpets was mixed with the roar of the crowd as they received their newly married king. Kateri’s coronation would be held in a few days after the marriage had been consummated.

Jame watched the crowd as they waved flowers and strips of colorful cloth to celebrate the wedding. Escorted by the royal guard, the newly married couple made their way through the streets back toward the palace. At most royal weddings, there would be a carriage waiting outside the basilica to take the couple back to the palace, but Kateri had insisted on walking back to give the crowd a chance to see them and Erathin had needed little convincing. However, both Jame and Evalyne, the queen mother, had insisted they be escorted by the guards. The wedding procession wound its way through the streets being showered in flower petals and praises.

Jame and Evalyne took a carriage directly back to the grand palace and waited in the courtyard for the newly joined couple. Evalyne shifted her weight closer to the father of the bride, “I’ve not mentioned this to you, but I am grateful for this union, your daughter, Kateri, is a wonderful girl and smart enough to know that she needs the people on her side in times such as these, but I need to know, is the girl naïve? I’ve never truly gotten to know her, and she seems so sweet and kind and—”. The queen mother searched for the right word, “perhaps I want to know if she is innocent enough to not realize the precarious position she has married into. She has gained the love of the people for now, but it won’t take much to turn them against her once the drought really takes hold and the people start starving. We are doing all that we can to keep them happy, but once the food runs out, there won’t be much we can do except abandon the city.”

“Kateri is good to the core. She truly cares for the people and if you are truly planning on fleeing the city, I don’t know what she would do. Part of me says she would accept the hopeless situation, but I could also very much see her refusing to leave if there were still people, she thought she could help. I don’t know where she learned to be so selfless, surely it wasn’t from me, and her mother died when she was rather young, and while she was a wonderful woman, Kateri is not very much like her, she is much kinder and gentler than her mother ever was.”

“Do I need to worry about her safety though?”

“I think she will be a help to you until you need to leave, then I should be paying very close attention to her in case she disagrees with your decision to flee the city—” The crowds outside the palace came to life as their King and Queen made the final steps of their procession through the city. When they reached the top of the stairs at the palace entrance, they turned around and waved to their people last time, encouraging a deafening response from the crowd. At long last, the couple left their adoring people and entered the palace to join the wedding feast.

Throughout the evening, Erathin and Kateri stayed close to each other, hopelessly in love and full of joy. Jame watched them always filled with feelings of bittersweet. They were so happy, but their situation was so precarious and there was nothing he could do to save them. If he could, he would make it rain and fill all the wells in the country to save the people and make his daughter safe and happy, but of course, he was no magician.

When evening fell and the feast was starting to wind down, Jame found himself watching the party from the side of the room, leaning against a great column. A hand settled on his shoulder and he turned to see who had approached him without being noticed. The dim light of candles and torches illuminated the face of his disgraced son.

“Willem?” The name slipped out of his lips in shock. Jame’s face distorted with disgust and grief as he turned away to reject his eldest child.

“Father, wait—” He grabbed at his father’s arm, “I’m leaving Katalan.”

Jame paused and, in that moment, the pain he had buried surrounding the events of his son’s betrayal came flooding back, fresh as the day it had happened. He took a deep breath to steady himself and faced his son. It had been years since he had seen Willem and yet here, he was, the same boy who had run away with that Dacia from the sand tribes, with only a few more wrinkles to show for it. Jame couldn’t help but see the face of his late wife in the features of their son’s face, and he saw himself too.

“Where are you going?” He asked.

“Serac. I already sent Freya and the children ahead of me. They are traveling with a friend, but I’m here for another day. I know we haven’t been on good terms, but I didn’t want to disappear without letting you know, and I want to say goodbye to Kateri.”

“And you thought that it would be a good idea to show up to her wedding? After thirteen years? You want to walk back into her life just to say goodbye? You said your goodbyes when you chose that Dacia over your family.” He spat the words at his son.

“You were the one who said goodbye, not me.” Willem spoke softly, “And _that Dacia_ is the mother of all four of your grandchildren who have grown up without a grandfather. I’m going to find my sister now. Goodbye father.”

Willem turned and walked back into the shadows, but his words rang in Jame’s mind.

_Four grandchildren._

He was a grandfather. He had four grandchildren. He never met them and now he probably never would because they were already gone, and he had to stay in Katal to ensure Kateri stayed safe. He had cut his son out of his life for disobeying him, but now it all seemed so pointless. His wife was gone. His son was gone with his grandchildren and he didn’t even know their names. Kateri was starting a new life.

They were all gone. It seemed so final.


	8. Zandra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://inkarnate.com/m/YyMjKg--re-beginnings

#  Zandra 

The room was musky with the scent of hot meats, warm bodies and spilled wine. Zandra picked at her food with little curiosity, preferring instead to let her gaze travel around the room, watching the people as they laughed and merrily shoveled various foods into their mouths. Almost all the of the city’s noble families were at gathered together, glaring at the red-headed mountain people who had come to steal their chance at social climbing. If Prince Nikos’s proposal was successful, Zandra would be off the market and unavailable to be used as a pawn by the nobles of Tantil.

Her father, Prince Roshim was pouting in his chair next to the king who was intently listening to a story from Prince Nikos. She payed close attention to the dynamic between the king and the princes, Nikos was nervous, but in a way that kept him sharp and alert. Roshim was sullen, he was not fond of the mountain prince, but he was also ignoring his father, obviously there had been a disagreement between them. King Tanis was relaxed, clearly assured in his power and not threatened by the princes on either side of him.

Princess Sanem was busy trying to keep the young princes in line while eavesdropping on the marriage negotiations. Silvi and Soren were rolling a handful of peas back and forth across the table, dropping half of them to the floor in the process.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Prince Nikos excuse himself from the king and walk towards her.

“Princess Zandra,” he bowed his head slightly as he greeted her. He leaned in and spoke quietly, “have you decided whether to accept me yet?” He was watching her intently gauging her reaction.

“I have decided.” She said simply, not explicitly stating what the decision had been, and turned her attention back to watching the people around the room. She waited for him to speak, unwilling to encourage him with a question, but also not wanting to dismiss him.

“My advisors have encouraged me to make an offer to your father and grandfather. They believe that our union would be very beneficial.” Nikos seemed to be justifying the imminent proposal.

“Beneficial for whom though?” Zandra asked, looking him straight in the eye and holding his gaze. She appraised him for a moment, he was young and looked naïve to the ways of Tantil’s politics. For a brief moment, she felt pity on the poor boy who had come to bargain with the greatest tricksters in the world, probably without any idea of how everyone in this city wanted to manipulate this deal to work in their favor.

He blinked and sat up straighter at her sudden directness. “Both cities of course.” He said the words with slight hesitation. Obviously, there was a benefit to him and his city, but he wasn’t accustomed to the manipulative and double-crossing ways of southern politics where everyone had at least one hidden motive. Zandra was sure that Tanis would have given him a reason, but she doubted he had given the whole story.

Zandra asked him another question to keep him from dwelling on the previous one for too long. “Why should I go with you?”

The corner of Nikos’s mouth tugged up, obviously pleased she was considering the match. “The mountains aren’t like your city. We have different customs and our way of life is very different from Tantil. I think you might enjoy life in Mylon, and one day, you would be queen, if you stayed here the best you could hope for is to be married off to a lord. That would be a demotion to say the least.” Nikos leaned in a whispered in her ear. “You could escape your family and finally be free.”

“I would be your wife, that’s not freedom, that’s trading one set of shackles for another.” Her jaw clenched in defiance at the thought that being married off could ever bring her happiness. Her parents’ marriage had been arranged and they could barely tolerate each other. The state of a marriage could be seen in the locations of their chambers. Her father had his chambers in the far west tower of the palace and her mother lived in the northeast tower, even so, the physical distance was nowhere near as great as the emotional distance. They interacted as indifferent strangers and, for as long as Zandra could remember, there had never been any warmth or love between them. Tanis had been the same with his wife, and Zandra only knew which lords and ladies were married because Mater Fara had taught her. For the nobles of Tantil, marriage was a power move and it had nothing to do with love, and never brought any sort of freedom, but when Zandra walked in the city, she saw poor families knit together by a bond that had nothing to do with politics.

Nikos was partially right though. She would be free of her family. She would no longer be a disappointment to them. She would leave them behind and start a new life where she could prosper and gain influence. There was no room for her to grow in Tantil, she would forever be the unwanted princess, the daughter that should have been a son. If she married Nikos, she would one day be queen of Mylon. She would have power and purpose and importance.

Nikos’s brows furrowed together, displeased at her choice of words. “Princess, I would like to see you again.”

“I’m sure you will.”

“Tonight.” He whispered. Zandra raised an eyebrow at the improper request. “After your intrusion this afternoon, don’t go pretending you care about propriety, but if it makes you feel better, you can bring a servant to keep you safe.” He said before she could object. “Like I said, things are different in Mylon. Here, your father decides whether you will marry me or not, but in Mylon, you would have the right to deny me. Come to my chambers tonight and I will give you your chance to decide. I would tell you to be careful, but you seem to know your way around the castle well enough to not get caught.” He winked and stood up, leaving her to consider his offer.

He made a fair point about her lack of concern about decency, but there was a difference between her surprising the man after his bath knowing he would be unarmed, unclothed, and unlikely to call for help and arranging to see him in the dead of night when the situation was to his advantage. To make her decision, she needed more intel on Nikos and the mountain people in general.

Zandra got up and straightened her skirts, so they flowed delicately around her. She wandered around the room, picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of her dress. She approached Princess Liza, Nikos’ younger sister, and curtsied before greeting her. “Princess Liza, welcome to Tantil, are you enjoying the banquet?”

“Thanks, the food is really good. Want to sit?” She gestured with her chin to the open spot on her right. “So, do you hunt?” Liza asked, trying to make conversation.

“Hunt? Animals? Of course not, that is not acceptable for a princess.” Zandra said, surprised at the question. “At least, not in Tantil.”

“Well, in the mountains, almost everyone learns to hunt. If you come with us, I’m sure you could learn, unless you don’t want to.” Liza offered.

“Hunting and fighting is a large part of your way of life, isn’t it?” Zandra asked, remembering Nikos proudly showing off his scars.

“Your city is tame compared to ours. In the mountains, a stone wall stops very few animals, when I was seven years old, a mountain lion got into our castle and was only killed a few feet from my chamber doors. You fight or you die. That’s the mountains.” Liza shrugged.

“Isn’t it risky to try to bring me to Mylon then? If it’s so dangerous, what will be done to protect me before I can learn to fight—” Zandra asked, “—should I choose to learn.” She amended.

“I’m sure you would get a guard; they’d make one of our best fighters stay by you for as long as you needed protection. Also, you would be spending considerable time with Nikos and he could protect you.” Liza shrugged

So, freedom like Nikos had promised was out of the question. Zandra thought about that answer, she would be guarded at all times unless she learned to fight. That wouldn’t work. She needed to be free of watchful eyes and running away from a guard all the time would not be acceptable. What was the point of being able to sneak around if everyone knew when she was missing? They might not know where she was or what she was doing, but they would know she had secrets and that wouldn’t do. Here in Tantil, nobody payed attention to her as long as she was present for meals and afternoon lessons with her mater.

“I’ll have to think about that.” Zandra offered a small smile. She had gained some important information about Mylon, but not enough about Nikos. “What is Nikos like?”

Liza smiled and quickly praised her brother. “Nikos is very much like our father. They are both brave and kind and love the people they serve. I don’t think Jesper would have given up his title if he wasn’t so sure Nikos would be a wonderful king.”

“Who is Jesper?” Zandra interrupted.

“He’s our oldest brother. He abdicated the throne when he was seventeen. Nikos was eleven then and he’s been learning to rule since then. Almost seven years now.”

Zandra was stunned. Nikos wasn’t the eldest child of King Arrelinon. There was another man out there with a stronger claim to the throne than the prince she was going to be betrothed to. If he ever came back to challenge Nikos after they were married, she could be put into a very precarious position, but what were the chances of this older brother coming back to claim his throne?

“Why did he abdicate?” Zandra asked.

“He fell in love with a Dacia. He knew the people of Mylonan would never accept her as their queen, so he gave up his throne to be with her knowing his brother would do an excellent job as king.”

A Dacia. Centuries had passed since the end of the dragon rulers. Generations had lived and died since the wall was formed to separate the two continents, but still, the people who didn’t make it back to their homeland before the final gap was closed in the wall were still ostracized and isolated from common society. They were perpetually stuck behind enemy lines without a way back to their homelands. There were Dacia in every part of the continent, but they were all treated with the same contempt no matter where they went.

This was certainly more information that Zandra had been aware she could collect when she first came over to talk with Liza. A prince giving up his throne for a Dacia.

“And your father just allowed him to leave the family?” Zandra asked, still shocked by this new discovery.

“Yes, but Jesper also needed Nikos’ permission. If Nikos didn’t want to rule, he could have said no, and Jesper would have had to rule, but Nikos could see that Jesper really loved the woman, so of course he agreed.” Liza smiled fondly.

“You make it sound like Nikos might not have wanted the throne? Who wouldn’t want to be king?”

“It’s a huge responsibility. Mylon is much smaller than Tantil and we don’t have a lot of people. We are cut off from most of the other provinces, so we rely on each other and it is the King and Queen’s job to make sure that happens. We are responsible to keep our people thriving and it’s an endless job. Some days, running off to become a simple laborer seems like a great idea. That’s why Jesper needed Nikos’ permission because our laws don’t just let you dump all that responsibility into another person’s hands, you need permission from the king and the one who will inherit your position. It’s not even that uncommon in Mylonan. My grandmother was the second child and received the throne when her older sister left to study in Kansandelan.” Liza shrugged, the news that was astonishing to Zandra was commonplace to her, but Zandra was fairly certain, she would be able to shock Liza with of the more aggressive political moves the nobility of Tantilan had tried over the years.

“I think I understand.” Zandra said, piecing together what she knew about Mylonan. She would be asking more questions of her mater about Mylonan before she was sent off to live there. She needed to learn about the culture and customs before she got there. “Enjoy your evening, thank you for being so open with me about your family.” Zandra left the princess and returned to her seat and ran through the conversations over and over again.

Her mind was spinning as she thought through her options. Options that had never existed to her before today. Today was the start of her life. Up until now, she had only been preparing for what was to come next by learning to sew, write, read and influence the politics around her. It was all for this moment. The moment when she was given a choice. From here on, her decisions would affect the trajectory of her life. She would no longer be learning about politics and negotiations; she would determine the outcome of events. Any mistakes could be fatal, and success would only ensure she lived to see more complex situations.

Zandra was quiet for the rest of the evening, silently planning for everything that could happen in the upcoming months. One thing was sure though, she had to meet Nikos tonight. He had information she needed and seeing him would be her best chance of getting that information, but before she went to see him, she had other work to do.

As the banquet died down, Zandra excused herself from the hall and went back to her room. Her maid helped her change from her ornate evening gown to a simple nightdress. She slid into her bed and faked a yawn. “Can you blow out the candles on your way out?” Zandra mumbled, burrowing into the pillows. She waited for the quiet click of the door that signaled her maid’s departure and counted to ten before she sprung out of bed. Zandra quickly threw another log onto the coals in her fireplace allowing the flames to be her source of light as she threw on some pants and a ragged shirt. She tied her hair up and placed a hat over it. It wasn’t much of a disguise, but servants were so frequently ignored and overlooked that getting caught was low on her list of worries.

Zandra slipped out of her room and down the corridor. She snuck through the castle, winding her way down the stairs and through corridors until she reached the vaults below. She carefully felt her way through the dark space, following the route she had taken many times before. Her fingers brushed a stone that was jutting out from the wall and she knelt down to remove a grating from the wall. She crawled through the small opening into the storm drain and followed the tunnel to the next grate. When she reached it, she looked around to make sure she wouldn’t be seen and then unlocked the grate and emerged into the empty back alley. She locked the grate behind her and tied the key to a string she had sewn into her pocket.

She had lost the key once before and it had taken her hours to retrace her steps and find it. Thankfully, she had made it back into her bed before anyone had noticed her absence, but she had no desires to repeat that risky experience.

She scurried around the streets, heading towards the alley where the street children normally slept. When she arrived, she found seven children there, four boys and three girls, the youngest of which was probably only three years old.

“Did you miss me?” Zandra said, boldly announcing her presence.

“Zan!” The oldest girl, Mara, recognized her immediately and stood up to greet her. “Where you been? We hadn’t seen you in a long time, thought they finally caught you stealing.”

“You worry too much; they’d never catch me.” Zandra grinned, feeling more at home here with these orphans and misfits than she did in the castle. “I brought you some goods.” She held up a bundle she had brought. In it was a mixture of food she had both ordered and stolen from the kitchens. It was a true feast with a couple of roasted vegetables, some fruit, a couple loaves of bread, and three chicken legs. 

Their eyes widened as they took in the spread before them. “How’d you get that much food without losing a hand?” A boy asked.

“Or your head?” Mara added.

Zandra made up an easy lie. “That new prince is in town, so there’s lots of commotion going on at the palace, right? I followed some people in, asked how to get to the kitchen, showed up, asked for some food for Lord Zan and walked out with a plate of food.”

“You’re crazy!” They were all laughing at her tall tale.

“No, that’s not crazy. What’s crazy is that I went back three more times.” Zandra said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. The kids around her were laughing so hard by this point, there was no way, they would question her story. “Go ahead and eat, King Tanis already fed me his portion of suckling pig right off of his golden plate.”

“Did he let you drink his wine out of his cup too?”

“Right after he tasted it for me to make sure it wasn’t poisoned.” Zandra winked, before switching the topic. “What have you seen of them mountain people? What’s the news?”

“We heard their prince is here to marry the princess.” One of the younger children volunteered.

“I heard the king might sent soldiers to Mylon with the prince and princess to build a river from the mountains to the castle here.” One of the boys said.

“You can’t build rivers. Where’d you hear that?” Zandra asked.

“My brother knows a servant who works in the castle. That’s what he said.” If this news was coming from a source in the castle, then perhaps that meant there was an element of truth to it. Could they build a river? Or create dams to divert water toward Tantil? That might be possible, but a wife and some laborers in exchange for a river didn’t seem like a fair bargain or something that would be of interest to Prince Nikos. There were three things, or perhaps four things, she needed to figure out as soon as possible.

The first thing she needed to know was what King Tanis had promised Prince Nikos. She knew her hand in marriage was the primary element. It seemed like he had also promised to send men up into the north to play around in the water. Was there something else he was offering or asking for?

The second thing she needed to know was what Prince Nikos was getting out of this exchange. What did he gain in marrying her, Zandra, the princess of Tantilan? Did he need foreign allies? Was he specifically interested in making an alliance with Tantilan because of the threat it could pose as an enemy? Mylonan was known for being quite isolated from the other kingdoms, their mountains were their greatest defensive strength, but also a hindrance to trade. Their mountains were the only ally they needed, and their isolation kept the people contented with a simpler way of life. Maybe Tanis really was sending men to help build something with the rivers.

The third thing was probably going to be the trickiest to find out. What was King Tanis’ actual plan? Was this marriage a drawn-out scheme to get soldiers into Mylon that could coordinate an attack from the inside? That could be why he would want to send men there. He could also be sending them to protect her and ensure that the marriage happened, or bring her back if the deal fell apart. Zandra could see a number of reasons for Tanis wanting to place his men in Mylon, so there was a good chance that rumor was actually true.

The fourth thing was the plans other people had for this union and what difficulties she would face if she went to Mylon. What was her father planning to make this union beneficial to him? What did the people of Mylon think about having a foreign queen?

Zandra returned her attention back to the kids. “Have you seen any of the mountain people in the city? They look so strange with their red-orange hair.”

The oldest boy spoke up, “One of the men was in the fighting ring. I’ve never seen anyone fight like him. Here in Tantil, there are usually two types of fighters, the skinny fast ones and the big slow ones. This guy was big, but he was fast too. I’m sure he could crush a bear while running across water. He fought one of the best fighters in the city and won in minutes. From then on, they were only allowed to fight against each other, and it was incredible to watch. They are very skilled in hand to hand combat or with weapons. They drew some of the biggest crowds I’ve ever seen.”

From her conversations with Nikos and Liza, Zandra knew fighting was a central part of the mountain people’s way of life. It was a necessary skill, but also source of pride for the people there. Her predictions of the future shifted as she factored in Mylon’s fighting excellence into the chances of Tanis actually pulling off a successful invasion of Mylon. Sure, Tantil had a larger army, but Mylon’s fighter seemed to have the upper hand in skill and they would have the advantage of fighting on familiar terrain.

Zandra paused, noticing a flaw in her logic. Marriages were about alliances. They were meant to prevent war and to help keep the established families in power. It didn’t make sense to marry her off then attack the city. Only a fool would attack a city they had just established ties with, and Tanis was not a fool.

But Roshim was.

There were two plans at play here. Tanis was making allies to protect his family. Roshim would not have a long rule, so the family would need help shortly after Tanis died. Having a close relative established as princess or even queen in a secure city would mean they could borrow support to keep control of Tantil, or they would have a place to flee to if the worst should happen. That was probably close to what Tanis was planning.

Roshim would take it a step further.

Zandra could see it now. Her and Nikos would have a son, an heir to the throne, then Nikos would die tragically, and a counsellor would be placed in charge until her son reached ruling age. The counsellor would probably be a senior member of her family, Tanis or Roshim, and just like that Mylon would have a new ruling family. Infiltration by marriage. That was the plan.

She talked with the kids for a little longer, but nothing else of importance came up. When she stood up to go, she felt a heaviness in her chest. There was no knowing how many more times she would be able to sneak out of the castle before she was sent off to Mylon.

“I’m leaving the city. I don’t know if I’ll see you all before I have to go, but I wish you all the best. May the rains pour over you.” Zandra said.

They were shocked and saddened, but in a disjointed course, they whispered back. “Let the rains pour over you.”


	9. Nikos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://inkarnate.com/m/YyMjKg--re-beginnings

#  Nikos 

The banquet was over, and the palace was quiet. Nikos stood by the window, not close enough to be seen by the guards quietly patrolling, but close enough to appreciate the view of the courtyard and the darkened city beyond the wall, vaguely lit by the almost full moon. There were few candles burning in the windows of the rooms across the courtyard and the candle in Nikos’ own room was burning low, throwing dancing shadows long across the walls in a false frenzy to the true stillness of the room. He dared not rest on the bed or even sit down because he knew that despite the nap be took upon his arrival to Tantil earlier that day, he was still exhausted and would be asleep without a chance of waking until the morning light pried his eyes open. It was one thing to ask the princess to meet him in the dead of night, it was another thing to assume she would wake him up if she did come to see him.

Nikos watched the guard patrols, trying to squeeze as much interest from them as possible to keep himself entertained and alert. He watched the pairs of guards loop around the courtyard then around the first-floor terrace. This route was timed so that the guards patrolling the ramparts on top of the walls could see down into the courtyard when the other guards were climbing the stairs between the levels and didn’t have a clear view. It was tedious to watch, but he kept watching, challenging himself to look for flaws in the defenses.

Finally, he saw the guards change and noticed that for half a loop, their timing was off leaving about a thirty second window where someone could run across the terrace on the north end of the courtyard while being out of view of both sets of patrols. This gap resolved itself quickly showing the high degree to which the Tantil soldiers were trained. Nikos began to doubt whether the princess would even be able to make it to his chambers without being spotted.

A soft knock on the small servants’ door in the back corner of the room gave him a slight jump, but he recovered quickly. He hurried over to the door and pulled it open. In front of him stood Zandra, dressed in the simple beige smock of a servant with her long, dark hair tucked up under the headscarf in the style he had seen most of the servants wearing their hair. To anyone not expecting to open the door to the princess of Tantilan, her disguise would have worked and concealed her identity well enough to allow her to roam the palace at night without question.

“Thank you for coming.” Nikos said softly, stepping aside to allow her entry into the room. “You didn’t bring anyone with you?” His voice rose at the end, questioning her obvious lack of a companion.

“If I brought anyone to this meeting, most of the city would have a transcript of our conversation by morning. You have no idea what the going rate for information is in this city.” Her remark was meant to be snide, but it was also a warning. _Watch what you say and who hears it_.

“Is there no one in this city you trust? No one here that is completely loyal to you?” Nikos asked.

“I have no power here. Marriage is the currency this city uses when gold can’t be used.” The words were cold, and her upper lip curled up slightly in disgust. She was obvious unimpressed by the way her grandfather was trying to use as a bargaining chip without any real concern for her wellbeing.

Nikos wondered how much her disgust for her city’s marriage practices affected her loyalty to it. “Are you loyal to a city and family that aren’t loyal in return?”

“Are the coins you spend returned to you at the end of the day?” Zandra answered his question with another question.

Nikos smirked at her reply. “No, they aren’t.”

“They why should they expect anything different from me?” It was a rhetorical question. Her eyes were hard and there was no doubt in his mind that she was being completely honest when she declared her lack of loyalty to her city and her family.

She asked another question, turning the tables on him. “Who are you loyal to?”

Nikos didn’t need to think his answer through, his father had engrained the answer into his mind from the first day he started training to ascend the throne after his father. “Right now, I am loyal to my father, the King, but I’m also loyal to every citizen of Mylonan and once I become king, my loyalty will be to my people alone and I will swear an oath to serve their interests before my own.”

“How does our marriage fit into the interests of Mylonan? If they wouldn’t accept your brother’s choice to marry a Dacia, why would they want a queen from Tantilan?” Zandra asked him. Her knowledge of his family matters surprised him. Most people knew he had an older brother who had given up the throne, but it wasn’t widely known as to why Jesper had abdicated. 

But she hadn’t asked him about his brother, she had asked about why he wanted to marry her. “My father has been receiving reports from Katalan. The drought is getting worse and the desert has spread across their entire province. The southern corner is empty because there isn’t enough water to sustain any life, human or animal. King Erathin has sent out letters begging the other provinces to allow any people fleeing the province safe passage. Erathin is a good king, he’s actually a distant cousin, but it seems King Bellerin in Mantryan is struggling. The last thing Mylonan needs is a King being thrown out of their country and looking to conquer another.”

“You think being married to me will provide you safety from the other provinces.” Zandra said, piecing together the reason for his trip. Her eyes snapped to his. “But Mantryan doesn’t share any borders with Tantil. They aren’t a threat to you. You’re worried it might be my father who tries to invade.”

That was exactly what he feared. The fact that she had jumped to that conclusion in seconds either meant he was revealing too much or it was exactly in line with Roshim’s character. Nikos hesitated with his reply and she spoke before he could confirm or deny her theory.

“You want to use me to deter a war with Tantilan.” She continued slowly.

“My father thought that if we had the future king’s daughter as our queen, he wouldn’t be quick to march an army into the mountains and start trying to claim territory.” Nikos sighed, revealing the strategies he and his father had spent weeks contemplating.

“Then why the hell would you accept Tanis’s offer to send builders to Mylon?” Zandra demanded, frustration creeping into her voice.

“I haven’t…” He stuttered and blinked in surprise, “How did you…” He wasn’t aware that Zandra had spoken with her grandfather about the proposed terms of the deal. From the conversation with King Tanis, he didn’t get the impression that Zandra would be told the details of the bargain for her hand. Perhaps he was wrong, and she was being informed of their decisions after all.

“The men he sends to Mylonan will be there to build, but they will also be there to spy on me and you. To make sure we are upholding our end of the bargain. They will also function as inside men in case Tantilan ever does decide to invade. They will send information about your weak point, how to launch an attack, how to outmaneuver your troops. They will be the reason Tantilan will win the battle, not because they have a larger army, not because they are stronger or better trained, but because they will have the information to bring you down from the inside.” Zandra explained.

“So I should reject his offer?” Nikos asked. He had been wondering this, but he wasn’t sure if that was really the best thing to do.

“That’s the worst thing you could do.” She sighed sounding disappointed in his conclusion.

“Then what should I do?” He asked, narrowing his eyes. She had claimed not to be loyal to Tantilan, but what if this was all part of a bigger play?

“Accept the men. Ask for twenty more than he offers. Then on our way back to Mylonan, hire bandits to attack us and have twenty killed. Take us to Mylon on the most difficult route possible and maybe some of them slip and fall off a cliff. By the time we actually reach Mylon, we will have half the men we started with and if they are sending details of the route back to Tantil, they will be sending the hardest route that would be near to impossible for an army to travel. Those men will arrive in Mylon and be given homes in the farthest edge of the city, so they will never get a chance to learn the defenses of the castle. Maybe some wild animals show up, deplete their numbers even more. A construction accident, poisonous berries, more gone. You will have accept Tanis’s deal, but you’ll rob him of every advantage he thinks he’s gaining.”

He was both horrified and impressed. It was a brilliant tactic, but also a ruthless one. Dozens of Tantilan soldiers would have to die for this to work. He had to wonder how she could so easily offer up the lives of her people. He would never sacrifice that many of his people, it would go against everything he was taught growing up. Not following this plan would also go against everything he was taught.

His father’s words filled his mind. _Put the interests of Mylonan above everything else. When you are King, you will be loyal to your people first before anyone else. Before your siblings, before your queen, before your children_.

Zandra wasn’t done with her plans. “Find out their order of command, make sure the second to fifth in command die as soon as possible. Let the commander live, killing him too soon would raise suspicion. Then, when he dies, the only information Tanis receives will be from a man he has probably never even met. They probably won’t have the knowledge to properly encrypt their messages, so you will be able to intercept the messages, and change some of the information just enough to be misleading, but not enough to raises suspicion. The only thing worse for an invasion than no intel, is an invasion based on bad intel and that will be all Tanis has. Leave one of your men in Tantil, if the army ever gets ready to march on Mylon, he can ride ahead, create a blockade on the main road which will force the army to take the difficult route we took. It will take them forever to reach Mylon and they will be exhausted by the time they reach the city and we will be ready. We can set up multiple ambushes and defeat them because we will have every advantage.” Zandra took a deep breath and for a moment neither of them knew what to say.

She had laid out a brilliant plan and they both knew it.

“Thank you.” Nikos said. “This plan might make all the difference if there is a war in the coming years.”

“I should probably go back to my chambers, you’ll need to sleep well if you want to get yourself an advantageous deal with Tanis tomorrow.” She headed to the door.

“Thank you for coming to see me tonight.” Nikos said before she slipped out the door and into the dim hallway.

As he climbed into bed, he ran through their conversation. Her plan was amazing, but there was still something bothering him about her lack of loyalty to her city. He couldn’t understand how she could care so little for the people who had raised her. Even though she had shared this plan with him, he couldn’t be sure she would actually be loyal to him. The question she had asked him before took on a new meaning as he repeated it in his mind.

_Are the coins you spend returned to you at the end of the day?_

When she first asked it, he understood it as a way to say she had no loyalties to a family that traded her like a coin, but now it dawned on him that a coin has no loyalties to anyone. If he continued to treat her like a bargaining chip, something to be traded or leveraged, she would never trust him and he would never be able to be sure of her loyalty. He needed to figure out a way to gain her trust and loyalty, so they could truly rule Mylonan as a pair without any doubts between them.

He fell into a deep sleep before the answer could come to him.

“King Tanis, I’m so glad I could meet with you again.” Nikos greeted the king with a small bow as he entered the king’s meeting room. Prince Roshim was absent today which was probably for the best.

“Have you had a chance to speak with your advisors about our deal yesterday?” The King asked jumping straight into business.

Nikos took a deep breath. He had one chance to get this right. “Yes, I just left the meeting with them. They were quite pleased with how reasonable your requests were and your generous offer of lending some men to help with the building projects.”

That morning, Nikos had met with five of his most trusted men and discussed King Tanis’s proposal of a bride and some men to help build dams and irrigation channels in exchange for a safe place to retreat to if Tantilan became dangerous for the royal family. His advisors were skeptical at first, but as Nikos explained that they might try to invade with an army if they didn’t accept they realized that accepting the offer might be in their best interest. He explained the plan Zandra had revealed to him last night, albeit a little light on the details of killing off half the men, but he did not mention her involvement.

It wasn’t that he wanted the credit for himself, but rather, he sensed she liked to keep people in the dark about her thoughts and abilities. She had gone to great lengths to make sure no one had known about their meeting. If she wanted to claim credit later once she was in Mylonan, he would fully support her, but until then, it was her choice to make that known.

“That’s wonderful, I believe we can spare fifty men to send with you.” Tanis offered.

“Fifty men?” Nikos let out a laugh, he was trying to seem casual, but in truth, the tension in his stomach was tying so many knots, he felt like there wouldn’t be room inside of his to breath soon. “That’s all you can spare? Isn’t Tantilan supposed to be the biggest province, did all your people run off?”

Tanis smirked, “Look at you, demanding more from me, is my granddaughter not enough? I sweeten the deal with some extra labour and you ask for more? Your father really did teach you how to drive a hard bargain.” He laughed.

“Give me a hundred men.” Nikos asked. He sent a prayer to the gods that Tanis would counter his offer. The less men he got in this bargain, the less blood he would have on his hands.

“Ok, one hundred men, and my granddaughter to be your wife and to produce heirs for you.” Tanis smiled. “In return, you will allow my family to seek refuge in Mylon, if needed.

Nikos froze. Tanis hadn’t countered his request like he had expected. Maybe his teasing had caused Tanis to feel defensive and be more generous. Maybe Tanis had been looking for an excuse to get more men into Mylonan. It didn’t matter anymore, because those extra men would die all the same because he mishandled this negotiation. He felt a weight settle onto his shoulders and knew he would carry this failure for a long time.

“Will a week be long enough to select and prepare the men? I’m sure my men would like get back to their families in Mylonan.” Nikos asked. “I’m sure my father will be eager to meet Princess Zandra as well.”

Tanis cocked his head, “You think you’re taking the princess with you now?”

“Yes, I think its important that she learns the culture and way of life in Mylon before we are wed.” Nikos was suddenly unsure of where this negotiation was headed. Zandra had assumed she would be going to Mylon with him, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to execute her plans if she wasn’t there to guide him. He suddenly realized that in only a few conversations, he had come to trust and value her judgement.

“You want to take her to Mylon without marrying her?” Tanis shook his head, “I can’t agree to this deal without a guarantee of our alliance.”

“In Mylon, our marriages are not arranged, both of the partners must agree to the marriage for it to be considered true. My people wouldn’t accept anything less than that for their future King and Queen. If she comes with me now, it will give me time to persuade her to say yes when the time for the Choosing Ceremony comes.” Nikos was scrambling for reasons to convince the king that Zandra needed to come with him when he left. “Why don’t we ask Zandra what she wants?”

“She stays here. When she finishes her education in one year she can join you. I’ll make sure she says yes during her choosing ceremony, here in Tantil, what she wants doesn’t matter.”

“Why don’t you send Zandra’s teacher with her, that way her teacher can keep an eye out for her and finish her education in Mylon. Zandra can also learn about Mylon from our teachers there. In a year, Zandra will finish her education, we can have the choosing ceremony and get married soon after.” Nikos countered. An idea came to him. “Since this is a lot to ask of you, I would be willing to decrease the amount of men you send to seventy-five.”

“A teacher and a personal guard that will remain with her until she is married. They will stay with her at all times to make sure she is well treated and looked after. I will also send fifty men with you and the princess now, and another fifty upon the birth of your first child. If you agree to this, you can take her in one month’s time.” Tanis countered.

The knots that had formed in his stomach dropped to his feet as the negotiation took another turn away from the plan Zandra had laid out for him. It was all getting away from him like an uncontrolled forest fire. He had to agree to this deal before Tanis found another way to mess up this deal.

“It’s a deal.” Nikos said.

Tanis called to the guard by the door. “Bring in the scribe!”

A short moment later, a scribe came in with a two pieces of parchment. Tanis dictated the terms of the agreement and watched over the woman’s shoulder as she carefully wrote down his words. They both signed the two identical copies and bowed. The deal was complete.

Tanis had out manipulated him at every step and they both knew it. As Nikos turned to leave the meeting room, he felt Tanis’s hand grip his shoulder, holding him in place. The king leaned in close to Nikos’s ear and whispered. “Should you not marry the princess or produce an heir in a timely manner, it won’t be fifty men I send to Mylonan, it will be fifty thousand. Make sure she says yes, and make sure she has a son.”

Nikos nodded with a sharp jerk of his head and Tanis removed his hand. Nikos almost ran out of the meeting room, already trying to find a way to speak with Zandra and tell her about the negotiation.


	10. Eleiria

#  Eleiria 

The coals glowed warmly, baking the small loaf of bread that rested over them. The smell of bread and the warmth of the coals heated the small room that was dug into the side of the mountain like most of the houses in the town. Eleiria worked next to the fire, hammering delicate designs into the leather covered breastplate. It was later than she usually worked, but there was a lot of work to be done. In a week, the prince was leaving Mylon and traveling to Tantil to arrange his marriage to a princess. Many of his soldiers, knights and companions were travelling with him and they all desired to look their best when they escorted the prince, so many of the men had brought their old breastplates to be repaired, polished, or reengraved. Other men had simply brought new sets of armor and wanted extravagant patterns etched into the leather.

Eleiria wasn’t the only leatherworker in the town, but she had an eye for making intricate and lovely patterns. It was one of the skills her mother had taught her before they had moved to Mylon. If she had been born as a native in Mylonan, she could have run a large business and lived a large home, but as a Dacia, there were many people who would not buy the items she made. The people of Mylonan did not like outsiders such as the Dacia, or even people from the other provinces. They were so isolated from the rest of the world that their way of life was unique, and many people feared that outside influence would change them. Yet, here they were, preparing to bring a foreign princess into the core of their culture and crown her queen. Eleiria knew from the stories her husband had told her that it had been five generations since the last foreign queen had sat on the throne in Mylon. The new princess wouldn’t be queen right away, as King Arrelinon was still ruling, but upon his death, Prince Nikos would ascend bringing his princess bride with him to the throne.

A knock on the door pulled Eleiria from her thoughts on the royal family of Mylonan. “Come in!” She called, rising to meet whoever was coming in.

A tall man ducked in through the door. His red hair marked him as a Native of Mylonan. “Good afternoon Eleiria. Have you finished my order yet?” His name was Arthen and he was one of the men who would be accompanying the prince.

“I finished it this morning and I have to say, I think it’s one of my favorite designs I have ever made.” Eleiria went over to her workbench and selected the Arthen’s breastplate from the pile of completed pieces. She brought it over to him and held it up for him to inspect.

His eyes swept over the design and he nodded, a smile breaking across his face. “It’s beautiful. Maybe I’ll be mistaken for the prince himself when we arrive in Tantil!”

“I could make you a crown if you want to be sure to secure a place next to the princess.” Eleiria teased.

“I don’t think my wife would be happy about that, perhaps we better hold off on the crown. I haven’t brought enough payment for a crown anyways.” Arthen pulled out his coin purse and handed it to Eleiria. She reached inside and pulled out a few silver coins before handing the purse back. Arthen pulled out one more silver coin and placed it in Eleiria’s hand, took his armor and left.

This custom of payment was unique to Mylonan. Nowhere else in the world did people hand over their coin purse and trust the other person to take a fair payment. The first time Eleiria had encountered this, was after her father’s death. She was nine years old and with her mother who was selling some leather bracelets that she had made. Eleiria wasn’t sure what she had found the most shocking, the woman handing over her entire coin purse, or her mother taking less payment than the bracelets were worth. She had tried to speak up and tell her mother to take another coin, but her mother silenced her. Then, to Eleiria’s shock and delight, woman buying the bracelets handed over another copper coin.

Once the woman left, Eleiria’s mother turned to her, “When the mountains that tower over you could collapse on top of you at any moment, you realize that wealth will not save you, but the help of others might. These people know that.”

“But what happens when the seller takes too many coins or the person buying doesn’t give the extra coin?” Eleiria asked.

“Then you either never do business again, or you bring a witness to the next sale.” Eleiria’s mother continued. “These people take pride in in their fairness and honesty. They survive as a community, not individuals. If you cheat and steal and betray your neighbor, then one day, when you need help, they might not come to your aid. And in these mountains, you will always need help eventually.”

“Then why are they so hesitant to help us?” She had asked, trying to reconcile what her mother was telling her with how they were treated as Dacia.

“Because our people betrayed them deeply. Our people from the Western continent were the ones they claim started the War of Division. They blame us for what happened. The isolation we face is partly our fault and partly theirs. We refuse to give up our cultures and traditions and become like them, so they fear us and push us away, afraid will destroy the system of trust they have developed. But we must hold onto our culture, and our stories, for us, they are all that is left of our world, even though it is a world our people haven’t know for centuries.” Her eyes were sad, but her voice was strong with determination.

Eleiria returned to her work, etching patterns into the leather and reminiscing about the things her mother had taught her. Her husband, Jesper, returned home a short while later and greeted her with a kiss before pulling the bread out of the coals.

“How were the children today?” Eleiria asked as he moved around the kitchen starting to make their supper.

“They were wonderful. We learned about Tantil today, I thought it would be good for the children to have more understanding about the city their future queen is from. It was an interesting lesson on politics to be sure.” Jesper gave a little chuckle remembering the lesson that had been close to getting out of hand. “The children wanted to know why Nikos would go so far away to get a bride when there were lots of nice women here. Darla suggested the prince should marry her older sister. How do you explain to children why marrying the Princess of Tantilan will hopefully stop any of the other provinces from trying to invade us and take all our water?” His joking attitude fractured as the seriousness of their situation soured the lighthearted mood.

“Mylon is built too well to be taken by foreigners that don’t understand the geography.” Eleiria reminded him, even though she knew he had a much better understanding of Mylonan geography.

“I know that, but I still worry about you, about us, and the family we will be starting soon. The drought is getting really bad in the southwest. There are more people fleeing Katalan every day, but Mantryan isn’t much better off, so they’ll head on towards Tantilan. Maybe they will stop there, but eventually, Tantil will start to be affected by the drought and where will they go? They will come here where we have lakes of clean, fresh water trapped high in the mountains. Eventually, they will try to take this city from us.” His shoulders slumped and Eleiria set down her tools and walked to his side. She wrapped her arms around him in a comforting embrace.

“That won’t happen for a long time, we will be feeding the worms, but the time that problem comes to Mylonan, it’s not for us to worry about.” Her voice was soft and soothing, but Jesper remained rigid in her arms, not quite accepting her reassurances.

“But with if they come sooner than we think they should? Everyone here knows who I am, and anyone who invades wont tolerate my survival. They will send assassins for me and you and any children we have. I may have given up my throne, but in their eyes, as the eldest son of King Arrelinon, I will still be a threat to any foreign power that tries to conquer Mylonan.” His eyes filled with pain as he looked at her.

“I love that you’re concerned about me, but I can protect myself.” She kept her eyes on his and made a small gesture at the water pitcher by his elbow. It raised into the air and with another gesture, filled the cup in front of him. “I could protect more than myself if the time came. You should talk to your father about letting me teach the guards and anyone else who wanted to learn. If I could teach the whole guard, we would be undefeatable.”

“Mylonan already has more people who know magic than any other province—”

Eleiria interrupted him. “But they don’t know how to fight with magic. They only know simple things to make their lives easier, but my people—I was taught how to fight with magic.”

“My people see magic as the cause of all the problems we are having now. They blame the threat of invasion on the drought which is the result of the magical wall that was created with magic to stop the magical wars that were plaguing us following the demise of the magical Dragon Rulers. They don’t trust magic beyond using it to light a candle.” He finally returned her embrace. “I’m sorry my love, but they’ll never accept it.” He placed a tender kiss on her head.

“One day, I will find an apprentice, or we will have a child of our own and I will teach them all I know, just as my mother taught me.” Her voice carried the echo of strength that her mother had when she spoke of passing down the traditions of the Western continent. “Our child will be of the West and of Mylonan, and nobody will be able to stop them from teaching magic.” Rebelliousness glinted in Eleiria’s eyes and the corners of her mouth tugged up into a wicked smile.

This was the very thing she had argued with her mother about when she had gotten older. If they mixed very carefully with the people of Mylonan, they could integrate into society and still make sure their traditions and stories were passed on. They could have children that fit into both worlds and therefore they could get their people into positions of power and bring about the return of magic. With the return of magic, they could lift the enchantments on the wall and return to their homeland.

It was the reason they kept their traditions alive. Her people had been dreaming of returning to their people since their first discovered they were trapped on the wrong side of the wall, but now, with the increasing threat of drought, there was a reason for the native people of this land to help them achieve their goal.


	11. Cahaya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its been a while since I posted, school is real busy right now. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I haven’t done much editing, so I’ll probably repost in a couple days once I’ve had a chance to read over it a couple more times.

Cahaya 

It had been eight days since her coronation and she had spent most of that time flying on Indago’s back learning how to communicate with the dragon. It was exhilarating to fly high above the small island of Nantrador and skim the surface of the waters surrounding it. She frequently raced Deste, but she was nowhere near as good as he was at flying. He had the advantage of twenty-five years of practice, so that was to be expected.

Today, there would be no carefree flying. Instead, she would be at a ceremony for the Selection of the Dragon Riders that would represent the eight provinces. Each province was represented by eight councillors and one Dragon Rider. Each of the councillors, Dragon Riders and Deste, the Dragon King, had selected their candidate eight years ago. Cahaya had been selected to replace Deste and be the new Dragon Queen, but the Dragon Riders needed to be replaced as well. Today, there would be a second round of votes to chose the Dragon Riders for each province. Whoever was chosen would become her closest advisers and intermediaries to the councillors of each province. Cahaya would be working closely with them for the next twenty five years until the next group of candidates was ready to replace them.

Cahaya’s new servants were painting her skin with the runes that were reserved for only the Dragon Ruler. On one hand, it was familiar feeling that she was starting to associate with all the most significant days in her life, but on the other hand, it felt wrong because for the first time, she was being painted with the runes that were reserved for the Dragon Ruler, instead of the runes that were native to her province of Katalan.

With that thought, a sharp pain stabbed through her chest. She would never be painted with the runes of her home province again. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but eight days ago, the day she was elected queen, was the last time she would ever wear the runes of her people and her family. At that, a small gust of air left her chest as though someone had slammed into her. If she married, she would be painted with the runes of the Dragon Ruler, not those of the people of Katalan. She thought of her sister, and her mother, and all the women in the generations before her who had worn the runes on the biggest days of their lives, their birth, their Celebration of Maturity, their wedding, the day their children were born and their funerals. She was no longer allowed to participate in and share in that culture. As the Dragon Queen and ruler of all the provinces, she had to remain as unbiased as possible. Favoritism for Katalan over the other provinces would reflect badly on her and in turn, Katalan.

“Queen Cahaya,” her servant, Finlay spoke, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Are you ok?” The aged woman took the hem of her sleeve and blotted Cahaya’s eye, “You’re crying.” 

“I’m fine.” She blinked quickly to try and clear away the tears. “I’m just missing my family and Katalan. I wish my parents could be here.” She gave a small smile to reassure Finlay.

“It is a hard life you will have now. I’ve painted these runes on Deste for his entire reign and on Mikenon for her entire reign as well. You have a lonely job. When you’re away, visiting the provinces, your companion will remain here in Nantrador, and when you’re here, there is an endless number of meetings and training always pulling you away from your loved ones. Mikenon had the most devoted wife, and Deste managed to fall in love during his reign, so there hope for making a new family during your time as Queen. Everyone on this island is your family now.” Finlay gave her hand a tender squeeze. The corners of her eyes were creased with lines that deepened as she smiled, reassuring at the young queen.

When the runes were painted and Cahaya was dressed in a purple ceremonial and adorned with her crown, she made her way to the basilica. The guards on either side of the great doors, bowed deeply as she arrived. They bowed a again a moment later and Cahaya turned to see Deste approaching. He was also dressed in purple, but the crown on his head was a just a thin, golden band, unlike the elaborate headpiece she was wearing. They took their places in front of the doors, ready to enter. The past and the future, side by side.

The doors opened and everyone in the room stood. All the councillors, candidates, and Dragon Riders were there. Cahaya and Deste moved to the front of the room were a table was set up with the scroll that contained the names of the new Dragon Riders and eight rings that she would give to each of them.

Once everyone was seated again, Deste spoke, his voice strong and projecting to the far corners of the room. “Thank you for gathering here today on the final day of choosing. You all cast your ballots this morning and they have been counted. As your new queen, Cahaya will call forward her Dragon Riders.”

Cahaya stepped forward and retrieved the parchment from the table in front of her. Standing in front of the people who had been her peers and teachers for the last eight years, she felt a sense of calm knowing the majority of them had chosen her to be the one they trusted to lead them for the next twenty five years.

She unfolded the parchment. “The candidates chosen to be my close companions, my guiding hands, and fellow Dragon Riders, are as follows: From Amaenivarra, Je’lani.” She smiled and welcomed the man up to the front of the room. She had not cast her ballot for him, but she was delighted that he had been chosen. He was nearly fifty years old and would be an excellent source of wisdom and counsel to her as she learned how to rule the continents. He had the typical look of the people of Amaenivarra, dark skin, dark eyes, and hair styled into tightly woven dreadlocks. The runes of his people were gracing his features, the colourful pigments shone bright against the dark base of his skin. He looked radiant and proud to be chosen.

He bowed in front of her and she placed the golden ring that signified his new role on the middle finger of his right hand. “Thank you Queen Cahaya, may your reign be blessed.”

She couldn’t help but smile at him before he took the first of the eight open seats at the front. She read the next name. “From Mantryan, Sekra.” Cahaya smiled, her and Sekra had become friends within days of arriving in Nantrador. Her sleek black hair was shining as it cascaded all the way to her waist. The runes on her face and arms were drawn with brilliant white, emerald green, and rose red pigments. They emphasized her slender jaw and round eyes.

“Thank you Queen Cahaya, may your reign be blessed.” She said as Cahaya placed the ring on her finger.

“From Kansandelan, Albis-Aren.” Cahaya forced a smile onto her face. They had clashed many times over the years as candidates. He was assertive to the point of aggression and always shared his opinion without being asked. Some people thought he was a strong leader, but Cahaya did not value the way in which he lead. He was bullish in the way he led and bullish in the way he looked. He was tall, with shoulders that were incredibly broad and close cropped blonde hair. Many people found him attractive, and Cahaya had often heard the some of the servants giggling in the hallway after he passed by, but she felt nothing except contempt for him and it blinded her to whatever physical beauty he might possess.

Her fake smile turned into a real one as she remembered that she was now queen. Her word was law and he would have to obey her commands. He bowed in front of her. “Thank you Queen Cahaya, may your reign be blessed.” She nodded and placed the ring on his finger. She would do her best to give him a fresh start and see if he was willing to cooperate with her before she made any more judgements on him. If not for the sake of peace between them and the rest of the Dragon Riders, than for the sake of the people of Kansandelan.

“From Amaetyne, Gaelan.” She smiled. Gaelan was a brilliant man. He was always trying to improve his magic and build things, she had watched him work a few times, and it was fascinating to her how he could make things that just fit together and functioned. He wasn’t using any spells, but it still seemed like magic to her.

Amaetyne was the province with the most migration, so the people from there had a wide variety of features and characteristics. The one thing they all shared was white hair. It was thought to be something in the water that pulled the color from their hair, so anyone who lived in Amaetyne, or stayed there for a while, had hair that grew as white as snow. Gaelan, and a few other candidates from Amaetyne, had refused to cut their hair once they arrived in Nantrador, so as his hair grew out, the bottom remained a pale white, and the rest of it was a warm brown.

“Thank you Queen Cahaya, may your reign be blessed.” He bowed and accepted the ring.

“From Mylonan, Kamilas.” The fiery red haired woman stood. Cahaya had actually cast her ballot for Kamilas to be the Dragon Queen, but having her as a Dragon Rider was the next best thing. The heavy set woman strode to the front with her usual confidence and grace. Kamilas was a true leader, unlike Albis-Aren, she organized chaos, pushed those around her to be better, and was so charismatic anyone would follow her.

“Thank you Queen Cahaya, may your reign be blessed.” Cahaya smiled as she placed the ring on to the woman’s finger.

“From Tantilan, Sepideh.” She was one of the most loving and nurturing candidates. She was unable to have children because of a childhood illness, but every single candidate here would agree that she was the mother of this group. She was always available for a conversation when training was difficult she shared her wisdom and hugs freely. There were many times Cahaya would simply sit next to her and absorb the calming atmosphere she gave off.

“Thank you Queen Cahaya, may your reign be blessed.” Sepideh said, her eyes were burning with a mother’s pride as she smiled at Cahaya. As Cahaya smiled back, she felt a tightness in her throat and her eyes glossed with tears. Her own mother wasn’t here to celebrate with her, but having Sepideh be apart of this was the next best thing.

“From Amaerayora, Citalli.” Cahaya, like many of the candidates, hadn’t liked Citalli initially, but eventually most of them had come to see them as a visionary. They made plans that were grander than most people’s wildest dreams, and to everyone but Citalli’s surprise, those plans worked out. Even today, there were surprised looks from the other candidates, but Citalli had a small, self-assured smile on their face. They knew this was coming because this was what they wanted.

Cahaya remembered a conversation between them in the second year of their training. Cahaya had been trying to imagine what it would be like to be the Dragon Queen and fly on the back of a dragon. “It would be so freeing, soaring through the air, the entire world only a short flight away.”

“I wouldn’t want to be Ruler though,” Citalli said. “There are so many problem always being thrown at you, there’s no focus, it’s hard to see things through. I want to be a Dragon Rider. I can focus on Amaerayora and make sure it is governed properly, what goes on in the other provinces won’t be of any concern to me.”

Here they were, six years later, exactly where they wanted to be. Citalli approached Cahaya with the swagger of self assurance that would have seemed absolutely arrogant on anyone else. “Thank you Queen Cahaya, may your reign be blessed.” She placed the ring on their finger and waited for them to sit before calling the last name.

“And finally, from Katalan, Kiri.” It was tradition to read the Dragon Ruler’s home province Dragon Rider last, as Cahaya read out the name of the chosen Dragon Rider that would serve the people she had once belonged to, she smiled. Kiri was a force to be reckoned with. She had a way of being able to persuade anyone to see things her way. Cahaya couldn’t remember a single discussion with Kiri that didn’t end if her agreeing with the woman and questioning why she had wanted anything other than what Kiri had suggested in the first place. Kiri was a master of persuasion and Cahaya had no doubt that she would advocate for the people of Katalan to the best of her significant abilities.

“Thank you Queen Cahaya, may your reign be blessed.” She placed the last ring on Kiri’s finger and turned to address all of her Dragon Riders.

“You eight are my Dragon Riders. You will advise me during my reign and represent the people of your provinces. You will be the intermediaries and connection between the people, the councillors, and I. I trust you to enforce my will and hold me accountable to all people. You will be my extra eyes, ears, and heart to alert me to the problems of the common people and council me in how to best help them. I will treat you all with the respect and esteem you deserve having been chosen by our fellow candidates and preceding councillors.” Cahaya took a deep breath and recited the Dragon Ruler’s oath.

“From this day, until the end of my reign,

I will honour the chosen Dragon Riders.

With patience and wisdom, I will listen to the pleas

That come from the people they represent.

From the back of a dragon, I will rule

the eight provinces with their aid.

_Hes ste shelah renecio Li’danius:_

_Faci Draseto undesico virel sti actas.”_

The words flowed off her tongue without hesitation. Even the last two lines, spoken in the Language of Dragons was smooth and she felt more confident speaking it than ever before.The language was once very difficult for her, and even after eight years of studying, there were still some words and sounds that always felt unnatural. The language was a combination the old language Alaena spoke and was influenced by the communications with Elpherio, the dragon she rode, so there were some sounds that were definitely the result of communication with a creature that had a very different manner of communicating. The sounds weren’t impossible, but they were difficult. It wasn’t until Cahaya placed her hand on Indago’s neck that she heard the interspecies language spoken by the missing collaborator and finally understood the nuances that all the hours of studying with other humans would never teach her.

“Dragon Riders, come with me.” Cahaya said, and walked out the double doors that led to the same steps she had stood on last week following her coronation. When they were all gathered on the steps, she gave them their next instruction. “Repeat after me: _Venei Draseto_.”

“ _Venei Draseto_.” The eight repeated her words and a moment later, they turned to face the quiet whisper of air being disturbed by the wings of nine large dragons. Unlike her coronation, the courtyard that had been filled with people was empty and for good reason. The large courtyard was The nine dragons landed gracefully and Indago, who had landed closest slithered up to Cahaya. She placed her hand against the midnight blue scales of its cheek. For a moment they conversed, she showed the dragon the new dragon riders and Indago showed her the dragons who had come to the courtyard today. Together, they matched Dragon Rider to Dragon.

Within a few minutes, they were soaring through the air, some bellowing with joy, others flying with silent wonder. Cahaya had a week more of practice than them, so she took this chance to show off the skills she had learned over her first week of flying. She flew in circles around them, happy to share this new joy with them. After they had been flying for about an hour, Deste and the previous Dragon Riders joined them in the sky. All eighteen of them flew together, but the more experienced Riders could be spotted easily. They were steady, and able to hold formations and make changes with small, practiced signals. They were a pack with a unified mind.

Human voices were almost useless when flying, especially in a large group. Between the wind constantly rushing through one’s ears and the distance deemed necessary to accommodate the wingspan of the dragons, a conversation with more than one other rider was almost impossible. Deste had told her that with practice, she would be able to relay messages to her Dragon Riders through her connection with Indago. Dragons were adapted to communicating while flying, so the Dragon Riders had learned to communicate with each other through their connections with their dragons.

Cahaya looked around for Deste and noticed him flying at the back of the group, above the rest of the Riders. She slowly urged Indago in that direction, careful not to fly into anyone. When she reached Deste, she tried to send a message from Indago to Sicora where Deste should be able to hear it as Sicora processed it.

_Why don’t you fly in the front of the pack?_

She thought the phase over and over, trying to make a success connection. Eventually, Deste turned his head and nodded, signaling that he received her communication. A moment later, she heard a faint response through her connection with Indago.

… _see everyone…directions easier…_

Cahaya pressed her palms harder against Indago’s neck and closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on Indago’s mind even more.

_I…see everyone…back here…guide and give directions…_

She understood what he was trying to say, even though she didn’t quite catch all that he had tried to say to her. Deste liked to lead from behind, she had seen this over and over again during her eight years as a candidate. When his Riders were leading a session, he would often sit off to the side and watch, only intervening when necessary. Correcting when they strayed too far from the path he envisioned. 

She heard the flicker of another message from Deste and looked toward him, motioning for him to repeat it. She pressed her hands tightly against Indago’s scales.

_This…for my Dragon Riders…Find what works…yours._

She nodded, mostly understanding the meaning despite not receiving the whole communication. She needed to find out what works best for her Dragon Riders. It was her responsibility as Dragon Queen to make sure she was an effective leader and brought out every ounce of greatness the Dragon Riders had to offer. The success of her reign would depend on how well she could lead the eight people and how well they could work as a team.

She thought about the people that had been elected today. Most of them would be wonderful to work with, but when she thought of Albis-Aren, a sense of dread washed over her. Over the past eight years, many people had gotten into disagreements with him. He was a great leader when he was in charge, but if he was relegated to a minor role, he would provoke some sort of disagreement every time like clockwork. Here he was now, a Dragon Rider, the second highest office in the world, and Cahaya knew that would never be quite enough for him.

Cahaya glanced around at those flying near to her. Sekra was just ahead of her, on her right, Sepideh was on her left. Albis-Aren was flying point, visible to all and leading the way. Before she had time to get annoyed with him, Sekra let out a shriek of giggles and swooped toward Cahaya. She deftly maneuvered out of the way and soon they were playing a game of tag, diving, spinning, and twirling around each other.

She would have to confront Albis-Aren at some point, but that was not a problem for today. Today, was their first flight as a group and they would enjoy the newfound freedom.


	12. Willem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! I rewrote this many times because it just wasn’t working out how I wanted it to, but I think I like it the way it is now, so I hope you enjoy it!  
> Here is a link to the world map! https://inkarnate.com/m/YyMjKg--re-beginnings/

#  Willem 

The taste of blood filled his mouth for what seemed like the millionth time that day, even though the sun had barely risen. His lips were so dry, any movement of his mouth caused another crack to form and another trickle of blood to enter his mouth. He took a small sip from the flask tied around his waist. He was leaving Katal today, and frankly, it wasn’t soon enough.

He checked the bags that were strapped to the small donkey’s back. Two large flasks filled with only slightly dirty water, a light blanket, and a bag with three loaves of bread and some dried fruits. He had sold all the belongings Freya hadn’t taken with her three days ago. Finally satisfied that he had accomplished everything he needed to in this miserable city, he sighed and led the donkey out of the city gates.

He turned his eyes to the road ahead and let out a small sigh of sadness. He was leaving the city of his childhood, where he had played with his sister, and laughed with his mother and father. All the memories of his mother existed in this city, as did her grave. It was also where he met Freya and fell in love with her, where they decided to marry despite the connections they would lose. It was where they watched their family grow from two to the six that they were now.

As he looked back, he realized the city of his distant memories was not this city. The city of his memories was lush with flowering plants, wide leafed trees that provided shade to play under, and an abundance of rich and juicy fruits to enjoy after a long day of playing with his sister as his mother watched from nearby. The city he was looking at now was caked with red dust that flew into the air with even the slightest breeze. It was sweltering in the heat, and the trees that once provided shade were dead and gnarled. The city he had once loved and enjoyed, was now a dried up wasteland, waiting for all the inhabitants to die so the desert could finish swallowing it up. For his sister’s sake, he hoped that day would be delayed as long as possible.

She had called him a fool for choosing Freya over their family, but she was young then and didn’t understand the lengths one would go to for love. Now, years later, she was the one making foolish decisions in the name of love. Their marriages were hardly comparable. Willem chose Freya, an outcast, knowing that it would result in being forsaken by his family. Kateri chose King Erathin, the pinnacle of acceptable partners, knowing she marrying the King of a city on the brink of collapse. And so, their marriages were hardly comparable, but they were both foolish in their own ways. Willem was abandoning the city with the woman he had chosen and Kateri was binding herself to it with the man she had chosen. They had made their choices.

The road was dusty and littered with people who had the same idea as Willem. Some were alone like him, others travelled in groups. He was hoping to see someone he recognized and trusted to travel with so they could take turns keeping watch during the night. Traveling alone was dangerous at the best of times, but these days, the wrong person would kill for a half empty flask of water. Willem was hyper aware of his surroundings and those around him on the road. He kept track of who was ahead of him and who was behind him. Being alone, he was traveling faster than most of the other people on the road, and passed many people throughout the day, but none were familiar to him.

At sundown, he reached a small town and bought a room to sleep in. It was too dangerous to sleep outside by himself. He hadn’t seen anyone familiar all day, and with the strangers following him, he was worried they were planning to rob him if given the chance. If he had stayed outside, he probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep because every sound would have put him back on high alert, and traveling alone with little sleep was a recipe for disaster. If anything happened to him, Freya would never forgive him.

At supper he ate in the common room with the other travelers. Willem motioned the young girl who was serving ale over to his table. “Any chance you saw a large group come through here, a man named Johar with his wife and child and another woman, Freya, with her four children?”

“A lot of people come through here. I don’t remember them all, but I don’t think we have had any group like that.” The girl shrugged. Willem nodded, this information wasn’t surprising to him, it was likely that he had travelled farther than the large group and that they had stopped a different town. He ate the rest of his supper and talked casually with the other travelers. Everyone staying in this inn had the same idea as him. Get out of Katalan while that was still an option.

In the morning, he had a small breakfast and set out on the road again. The blisters that had started to form on the heels of his feet grew throughout the day and by the time he was settling into a new inn the next evening, his feet were a weeping and bloody mess. The innkeeper took pity on him and found some herbs to mash into a poultice to dress the wounds. It provided him some relief and the cool mash was soothing against the heat radiating from the sores, but in the morning he could barely think about putting his sandals back on.

He had been walking fast trying to gain ground on Freya and the children, but as he hobbled along on the third morning of his journey, he realized all his eagerness had resulted in no gain, as he was walking slower than ever. At the start of his journey, he had been the one passing people on the road, walking faster than the groups of people that had to accommodate for the elderly and young in their groups, but today, he was the one being passed.

The pain in his feet filled his mind and he was no longer paying attention to his surroundings. It was dangerous for him to be traveling like this. He would be an obvious target for thieves as he was alone and would be slow to defend himself. He would stop early today and let his feet rest tomorrow, then he would continue on and hopefully, his blisters would form callouses quickly and stop causing him pain.

It midday when he came across the next town. He was exhausted and his flask needed to be refilled. As the road ahead of him started to blur, he began to worry he wouldn’t make it to the next town. He kept placing one bleeding foot in front of the other until he entered the next town. He hobbled into the nearest tavern and nearly collapsed into a chair near the door.

A concerned looking young boy brought over some water. “Are you ok? You look terrible. Here, drink some water.” He poured a cup of water and handed it to Willem who promptly emptied it.

“Thank you boy, could I have some more?” Willem croaked, his throat still felt coated in road dust. The boy refilled the cup again and Willem drank it all once more. “Do you have any rooms free?”

“I think so, but I’ll have to ask my father.” The boy ran off to look for his father,

Willem was inspecting his feet and gingerly touching the blisters that had yet to pop when someone sat down at the table across from him. He looked up, expecting the boy to have returned with his father, but instead there was a young woman. A single glance at her odd, honey colored eyes identified her as the young woman he had taken to the basilica.

“You’re looking worse than you did the last time I saw you.” She stated leaning forward to get a better look at his feet.

“I’ve been walking too fast trying to catch up with my family.” Willem replied. “I thought you were going to stay in the basilica.”

“I told you there was nothing left for me in that city. You seemed intent on making sure I was safe, so I let you hand me off to someone else. I had an interesting chat with the Pater before I left the city.” A small smile graced her face as she reminisced the conversation with the blind old priest.

“Did you travel all this way on your own?” Willem asked. It was barely safe for him to travel alone, and he had a sword and years of training from being part of the city guard, but she was a woman, and would seem like an easy target by herself.

“I generally try to follow close behind a large group. Most of the time they don’t mind, and I haven’t gotten into any trouble yet. It would be nice to travel with someone though, even just for a bit of conversation.” She said. “Walking for days without anyone to talk to was starting to drive me mad.”

They laughed together for a moment. The boy returned with a broad man who must have been his father. “You were looking for a room?” The man asked.

“Yes, for two nights, I need to let my feet heal before I continue on my journey.” Willem motioned to his feet that were looking more sorry than ever.

The man winced as he took in the state of his feet. “There’s a room prepared already. I’ll have some water and cloths sent up so you can wash your feet.”

“That would be helpful. Thank you so much.” Willem thanked the man sincerely.

“Did you want me to send for the healer? He lives in the next town over and could come by tomorrow.” The man offered.

Willem was about to accept the offer when the young woman spoke up. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll can look after him.”

Willem realized that he didn’t know her name. The priest had called her Sorer Sola, but that wasn’t her real name, it was the name he was bestowing on her thinking she would join him in service at the basilica. Willem hadn’t had time to ask her name when they first met, and it hadn’t come up since then. He didn’t want to reject her help, but he was wondering if it wouldn’t be better to have a healer help him, since he had no idea how much knowledge she had to help him. He was going to politely decline, but there was a confidence in her face and voice that made him let it slide.

The man left and Willem turned to her. “Thank you for the offer. I realized we’ve never introduced ourselves, I’m Willem.”

“I’m Aesha, I’d be happy to tend to your blisters, but I’d like something in return.” She was watching his face carefully, trying to read his answer before he spoke it out loud.

Willem was careful not to agree to an unknown. “Want would you like?”

“Let me travel with you.” She gave a friendly smile. “It will be safer to travel together and I promise not to slow you down, you want to catch up to your family and go to Tantilan. I have to meet someone in Pagos in two weeks.”

“Who are you meeting?” Willem asked. She was still essentially a stranger to him, despite the dramatic circumstances of their first meeting, and he wasn’t sure she was entirely trust worthy.

“Some old friends.” She answered the question, but Willem got the impression there was more to it that she was saying. She was right though, traveling together would be safer.

“Sure, help me clean and dress these walking sores and you can travel with me.” Willem agreed.

“Thank you.” Aesha said.

Later in the afternoon, Willem had eaten some bread and stew, and was in his room attempting to wash his feet. Using a damp rag, he wiped away the dust and dried blood, avoiding the tender areas to begin with. The innkeeper had brought him a bottle of strong ale and he had been drinking it as he tried to clean his feet. Aesha had gone out to find a special herb to dress his feet with, and was bound to return soon.

“How is going?” Aesha asked, returning from her errand.

Willem sighed. “It hurts like a thousand bee stings and my feet are getting so hot I think they might just melt off.”

Aesha looked at him with pity. “Let me help.” She gently sat on the edge of bed and took the cloth from his hand and carefully continued dabbing at the damaged skin.

Willem drew in a sharp breath as she pressed on one of the sores. “Tell me a story, distract me.”

“Why don’t you tell me one.” She said. “What is your family like? You are trying to catch up to them, right?”

“Yes, I sent Freya and our four children ahead with a friend. I am hoping to catch up with them before they board a ship in Rimal, but if not, they will wait for me in Olenport.” Willem did his best to keep his voice even despite the sharp pain.

“Tell me more.” She encouraged.

“We have four children, Dante, Renato, Laetzia, and Juna. They are the most beautiful children I’ve ever seen, but they get that from their mother, Freya. We met went were fourteen. My mother was sick and none of the healers in Katal could help her. My father was so desperate to save her that he sent for one of the healers from the Sand Tribes. That’s how we met, her mother was one of the best healers. I will never forget the first time I saw her standing by her mother’s side, watching her perform spells and repeating them silently to herself.” Willem’s eyes closed as if to enhance the image he was seeing in his mind. His mouth pulled up into a smile and the lines around his eyes deepened. 

Willem continued his story, trying to keep his mind off the pain in his feet. “Her mother tried every spell she knew to try and heal my mother, and it did work for a while. The magic kept her alive for about three years, which meant I got three more years with my mother and I got to see Freya everyday for three years. We became great friends during that time, but I only needed that first day to know I was going to marry her. Eventually, my mother passed away and there was no reason for Freya and her mother to stay anymore. Freya’s mother was getting old and wanted them to return to their tribe, so they left together even though I begged Freya to stay with me. Her mother passed away within the year and Freya returned to Katal. She found me and we ran away to get married because we both knew my father would never approve of our marriage. He was a nobleman and had high aspirations for my marriage, Freya was not his ideal match for me. When we returned to tell him the news, he claimed she had bewitched me and threw us both out, but I haven’t regretted my choice for a single day.”

“You sound like you really love her.” Aesha said, a look of admiration in her eyes. “Your feet are clean now. If your serious about wanting to catch up to your wife, there is one thing I could do to speed up your healing.” She said the words, but there was still hesitation in her face. She had said the words, but she looked like she was undecided as to whether she would follow through. It was like there were two conflicting decisions in her mind and she couldn’t resolve which one to chose.

“Yes, what ever it is, do it, I want nothing more than to see my family again.” Willem leaned forward in anticipation, trying to encourage her to help him.

“Alright, because I want to travel sooner and because of your kindness to my people, I will do this for you.” There was a hint of a begrudging tone to her voice, but Willem didn’t quite understand what would cause her feel that way.

Aesha closed her eyes and took in a deep calming breath, still looking as though she was trying to convince herself. She straightened her posture, squaring her shoulders and exhaling slowly. She reached into a pocket on the front of her dress and removed something wrapped in a bundle of cloth. She carefully opened the cloth to show a sweet smelling grey-green herb.

Willem watched her with interest as dipped the leaves into the bowl of water and then pressed them onto the blisters. It stung, but the herbs felt cool against his skin which brought a slight bit of relief. When she had covered his feet in the herbs, she wrapped them in strips of cloth to finish the poultice.

“Thank y—”

“I’m not done.” She interrupted. She lifted her hand and held it over his left foot. Her lips parted and she whispered quietly, “ _Ichausana_.”

Willem blinked in surprise. He didn’t realize she knew magic, but immediately, the pain in his foot changed from a sharp, burning feeling to a dull ache. The heat receded and the pain changed again from a dull ache to a feeling of pressure which gradually faded away.

Willem stared at her, his mouth hanging open, then at his pain free feet, then back to her.

“How does that feel?” She asked.

“They don’t hurt.” He sputtered.

“Good.” She started pulling the cloth off his feet.

Willem’s eyes, which were already wide with surprise, grew even larger as the cloth came off. The herbs which had been fresh and dipping with water were now falling away in dry flakes. Instead of blisters and sores, there were faint pink marks where the injured skin had been. He pulled his foot onto his lap to examine his foot better, gingerly touching the freshly healed sores. “It’s like they were never damaged in the first place.” He said after marveling at the transformation for a moment. “Thank you.”

Rather than accept his thanks, she stood abruptly and headed to the door. She paused with her hand on the latch. “We can travel tomorrow, no need to waste a day now that you’re doing better.” She left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

She was right. There would be no need to lose a day to let his feet heal anymore. They could leave in the morning and catch up with his family that much sooner. He smiled to himself hoping he would be able to catch them before they got on a ship in Rimal. They could sail together out of Katalan without worry of trying to find each other once they reached Olenport in Tantilan.

Willem’s thoughts snapped back to the events that had just unfolded. He didn’t know much about Aesha, but he had not been expecting her to have such an advanced knowledge of magic. Freya’s mother, the woman who had spent years trying to heal and extend his mother’s life was considered to have an extreme amount of knowledge, but her abilities had been sharpened over decades of practice. Aesha was probably barely twenty years old and already rivaling the skill of the elderly woman.

Willem was thankful Aesha had chosen to use her magic to heal him, but it was a sharp reminder of how little he knew about the young woman. Before she had healed him, she had seemed to be warring against her self, presumably trying to decide whether or not to reveal the extend of her magical abilities. She had decided to heal him in the end, but Willem didn’t know enough about the woman to how or why she had reached that choice.

Willem whispered to himself. “Surely she wouldn’t heal me if she was going to kill me or rob me.” He didn’t know her motives for healing him, but he did know that he had agreed to travel with her, so that is what he would do.


End file.
